


A monster in the closet

by happy_phantom



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:19:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 73,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3833353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_phantom/pseuds/happy_phantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One moment that changed so much...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> I’m back :) Bad handlers and so on . I’d like to warn you – it’s would be an AU story – with so many changes to the original…But no slash or supernatural elements!
> 
> I hope to post at least once in the fortnight but…it’s spring outside and I can’t promise much…I can promise this story to have some unexpected turns :)
> 
> And there is a long list of stories that inspired this one – I will try to write them down here – starting with Neal Hughes’ series by angel.
> 
> My beta – as always my lovely Ayam (thank you soo much!!!). All mistakes are mine and sorry for them. Please keep in mind that my medical, FBI-related, legal knowledge is very limited…
> 
> Enjoy!

“Agent Hughes, thank you for coming today. We would like to emphasize that neither you nor any of your agents are targets of this investigation. Our committee would just like to see how the whole situation came about and what can be done to prevent similar ones from happening in the future.”

Hughes glanced at the lady from the Department of Justice who had spoken. At this very moment he truly despised anyone with even the remotest connection to law enforcement, himself included. Next to the lady sat someone from Child Services, a bit further to the left a representative of NYPD and someone from Saint Louis PD, then Agent Martin Fitzgerald from the Missing Persons Unit of the FBI and representatives of other agencies. All of them were avoiding eye contact and were clearly uncomfortable – not because of Hughes, but because of this whole situation. There was no way this mess could be swept under the rug without some collateral damage. Hughes didn’t think that any kind of meeting or any kind of committee would make this situation better. He just hoped that guilt they felt was genuine. 

“With all due respect, I’ve been on the job for almost four decades. I haven’t ever heard of a case like this.”

He didn’t. He even didn’t know of anyone who had heard of a case like this. He could have bet all the money he earned during his career that nobody in this room heard of a case like this. Because – at least in theory – it was not possible. Nevertheless, , it happened.

“Let’s hope that this nightmare has happened only once. But what if that’s not true?”

She left the question, the doubt, hanging in the air. Dramatics. It was in the top ten on Hughes’ ‘the most despised things list.’ The agent didn’t think it was smart to answer back – he didn’t like all this ‘learn from our mistakes’ crap, all the ambience of sorrow and regret she tried to create –he bit back a snarky remark.  Barely. She continued, “Besides, there are still a lot of people who would like to hear some kind of an explanation.”

This time Hughes couldn’t help himself.

“Where were those people for all these years? A nightmare for **us**? What about **him** and **his** nightmares? Shouldn’t it be about the only person who took the brunt of all our mistakes? **Our** mistakes. We – all of us, failed; the system failed.”  The lady and some others in the room exhaled loudly.

“We did. And that’s why we would like to prevent it from happening to someone else. To serve justice right now.” Justice – right now there was no word Hughes hated more.

“Do you believe it’s possible?”

“I have to, Agent Hughes. We all have to. But we didn’t meet here to talk about personal beliefs. Let’s focus on the task at hand. Shall we start?” Hughes nodded.

“Ok. On April, 23 Agent Thomson from Violent Crimes asked for your CI’s assistance on the case. Against Agent Burke’s advice you ordered the consultant – Mr Neal Caffrey to go undercover.”

“Yes, I did. I knew Agent Thomson from some previous cases and I thought that the sting would be well prepared. I believed that there was no additional risk for Caffrey. But I was wrong. The intel was inaccurate – there were more people involved and more criminal activities going on then we assumed. In addition, someone had warned them about our operation and they expected to be infiltrated – later we found the leak inside the FBI and took proper care of it – so at the end, the goons took Caffrey with them probably as a kind of leverage in case something went wrong or for information. We lost track of them – they got rid of his GPS tracker and we had removed Caffrey’s anklet prior to this operation. Caffrey went missing. Thanks to some anonymous tips we managed to find him alive but in pretty bad shape. But not soon enough.” The tips were anonymous but Hughes suspected that Neal’s landlady – June Ellington and her family lawyer – Theodore “Mozzie” Winters aka Dante Haversham had something to do with it.

“If Mr Caffrey were an agent, not a consultant, would you also have insisted on his going undercover?” Someone else prompted.

Hughes hated this – he hadn’t deliberately put Caffrey at risk. He had believed that he would be home safe and sound at the end of the day. He had also believed that saying no to Thomson could only backfire at the consultant.

“If Caffrey were an agent, I wouldn’t have to explain almost every action he takes, each dollar I spend on him and each case he was involved in but my division didn’t close. I wouldn’t have to consider that his not taking an assignment would send him back to prison.  But I believed that he was as safe as one can be for an undercover op.”

“Apparently he wasn’t. “

“As I told you before, it wasn’t my operation. I didn’t believe risks were higher than usual.”

“So Mr Caffrey was taken and found after almost two weeks…” The lady decided to go back to the previous topic.

“Twelve days. He was missing for twelve days.”

“Right. He was found in a basement, taken to a hospital and your agents secured the scene. Nothing out of the ordinary considering the circumstances.”

“Not until they operated on Caffrey. And then all hell broke loose.”

*****

The day when Agent Thomson came to the White Collar Division to ‘borrow’ Neal was the day when a chain reaction began that resulted in the turning of many people’s lives upside down.

Peter didn’t want to agree to Neal’s participation in the sting.

“Too many loopholes. Too many things that can go awry at any moment. Too dangerous.”

“What are you now – an advocate of a criminal? Hughes, what do you think? Isn’t Burke overprotective? We can send Caffrey back to jail if his handler wishes – he will be as safe as a snitch can be in the prison. And it would save some FBI money.”

Hughes was also reluctant but then he didn’t really have a choice. He never thought that Thomspon would play dirty, but he did.

“Oh, come on Reese. I’m having dinner tomorrow with Bancroft – I wouldn’t want to complain about the uncooperativeness of the White Collar Division… It might make Bancroft think not too well of you, and you wouldn’t want that.”  Hughes was rendered speechless but he didn’t have an ace up his sleeve.

“Fine. But I’ll be watching your movements closely.”

Even that wasn’t enough – because when Neal used his safe phrase it was too late. When they barged in into the warehouse, the young man was long gone and days of shouting, not sleeping, calling in all favors from street contacts and looking for a rat in the FBI began. Mrs Ellington and her lawyer had a word with Hughes when Neal didn’t come back home.

“We stayed away from Neal’s deal with the FBI in the past. But that will change – I won’t let anyone put him at such risk again.”

“You – Suits, think that you’re untouchable – that your lawyers are infallible. They’re not.” Hughes knew the reputation of Winters’ law office – they were highly respected for cases regarding property and corporate law. And highly profitable as well. But they did also a lot of pro bono cases focusing on people who had been treated unfairly by law enforcement. Winters rarely went to court – he wasn’t good at keeping snarky remarks to himself. But he built strategies to win and had people who put them in motion. Usually his name was enough for a prosecutor to seriously consider offering a deal and for an attorney who represented the opponent to agree to monetary compensation or whatever was on the table.

“I know that you don’t care – that Neal is a tool for you. But he’s like a grandson to me. I will turn over every stone, dig into every hole, but I will find him and bring him home. You have to play by the rules, be the puppet in a political show – I don’t.” Neal’s landlady continued.

“Mrs Ellington, we do what we can…”

“Apparently you don’t. If you did, Neal would not have been taken.”

 On the twelfth day, when almost everyone had abandoned hope and tried to stay away from Peter who didn’t bother to hide his emotions – anger, guilt and disappointment, a manila envelope arrived packed with a lot of information about different illegal activities linked to Paul Morris –  the man whom Agent Thompson was investigating. There was also evidence pointing at Thompson’s secretary as the source of the leak.

“We have three different locations here. Let’s organize three teams and hit them simultaneously.” Peter said.

“Burke, I can offer my men…” Thompson, who just had arrived, tried to reconcile.

“You did enough. Stay out of my way. And good luck with OPR…” Peter couldn’t help himself.

“Son of a bitch! You didn’t file an official complaint, did you?!”

“He didn’t. I did. Burke, find Caffrey and bring him home. Thompson –off of my floor.” Hughes added.

It took Peter and his team almost five hours to prepare everything, so the operation was scheduled for 8 p.m.

Three teams. Three locations. And the last bastion of hope to find Neal. Alive. Nothing else was on the table. Peter had many conversations with Neal in his head – what he would do, would say, would promise – when he found him. When – not if.

But it wasn’t Peter’s team who found Neal. It was Jones’.

“Peter, we found him. EMTs are working on him. He’s unconscious but alive. Drive directly to the hospital. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done here.”

“No. I’ll call Hughes to send someone – please go with Neal. What if he wakes up…” _Scared. With strangers around him,_ Peter thought. Jones understood.

Neal didn’t fully wake up but his eyes fluttered few times during his ride to the hospital. Medics assured Jones that it could be expected given circumstances.  

“Sir, he’s severely dehydrated and his body is weak. Give him time. A trauma team is waiting for us and he will be taken care of. They have great people there.”

“Will he be ok?”

“Let’s wait for a doctor’s opinion. But I’d be optimistic.” It didn’t sound optimistic for Jones – he wasn’t a specialist but knew enough medical jargon to be worried. _Low BP, irregular sinus rhythm, fever, problems with starting an IV…_

Peter reached the hospital a few minutes after Neal’s bus. The young man was taken to one of the trauma rooms to be treated. Jones was waiting in the corridor of the ER.

“How is he?”

“I can’t tell you much…” Jones wasn’t a rookie agent that was easily shaken. He had fought in a war so his grey features and shaky hands told Peter more than any words could.

“Will he be ok?”

“They hope so… He was beaten… probably starved and dehydrated… his left arm is broken…It was bad, Peter… the room where he was left…” The younger agent started…

“Will you be ok?” Jones tried to smile before continuing.

“Peter, we shouldn’t let him be sent undercover. Damn it… He’s still young and he doesn’t have the field training… and…when it came to this? You know they needed bolt cutters to free him? And he was lying in the basement, on the concrete – no blanket, no sheet, nothing… a rusty sink in the corner….” Jones needed a minute to compose himself.

“Go home Clinton. We will debrief tomorrow. I’ll let you know as soon as there is word…” Peter stepped into the role of supervising agent, leaving the role of equally worried human being. For a minute.

“Ok. I gave your name as Neal’s medical proxy.” Jones stuttered slightly on Neal’s name. Peter nodded.

“Peter – one more thing: no sign of Paul Morris.”

“Damn it…” They got his goons but the man must have slipped away.

“Do you think he’ll be back to kill Neal?” Jones asked.

“I won’t take any chances. I’ll take care of it. Go home. Take a long shower. I mean it, Clinton. Good job today.”  Jones nodded. He didn’t think that he had done a good job – Caffrey might not be an agent but he was a part of a team. He put his life on the line as often as any other agent.

“See you in the morning, boss.”

Before Peter managed to call everyone who needed to be informed about Neal’s condition and to organize a guard for Neal, a man in his fifties wearing green scrubs approached him.

“Agent Peter Burke?” He asked.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Dr Cheng. I’m responsible for Mr Caffrey’s care today.”

“How is he?”

“As well as can be expected. A lot of bruising on his back and torso, possibly bruised lungs and left kidney, broken left forearm and an abrasion on his left ankle. He has a respiratory infection – we hope it will not develop into pneumonia. He’s severely dehydrated and badly malnourished – if I were to make a guess I would say that he hasn’t eaten in over a week and he didn’t have any fluids for two to three days. It’s serious but we hope we can manage to control it.  We can discuss his condition and prognosis for recovery later –he still needs a trip to radiology for more scans and x-rays  – but right now I need your consent as his medical proxy for surgery.”

“What for?” Peter didn’t want to sound terrified but deep down he was – even though the doctor’s words really didn’t sink in. He couldn’t focus on each injury – he must focus on the fact that Neal was alive. He wanted to believe – as ridiculous as it sounded – that nothing bad happened, that he would take Neal to his apartment after aquick trip to the ER, they would drink some wine – or beer – and forget the whole fiasco.

 “The fracture of his arm and lacerations on his ankle require intervention in the OR. The sooner, the better. Don’t worry – one of our top surgeon’s been waiting for him.”

“Ok. Can I see him before the surgery?” The agent scribbled his signature and couldn’t help that his hands were shaking. The doctor noticed it.

 “Agent Burke, we have to prepare him for surgery, check everything… let us work. Go home, get some rest. We will take care of Mr Caffrey – but it will take a few hours before we know everything. We will call you as soon as he is in post-op. I recommend someone with him then due to recent events.”

“Just for a minute, please…”

“Ok. Come with me.” The doctor led them to a room full of medical personnel busy with Neal. The kid was unconscious but he was breathing on his own. Pale, dirty, worn out.

“It looks bad, Agent Burke, but I’m hopeful he will pull through. Now, go home. Rest. We’ll call you as soon as we finish the surgery. Come then.” 

 “I’ll be with him. And if he wakes up earlier don’t call him Mr Caffrey. It’s Neal. Two agents will stand guard outside his room – the man who took him is still at large.” Peter said and reluctantly left. He looked at his watch – it was barely eleven.  He didn’t feel like sleeping but he couldn’t go back to the office. Peter wished El was here – he had called her and she was catching the first flight back to New York. She should arrive by the morning. June was driving back from her daughter. Diana and Hughes were busy securing the scene and gathering evidence.  

So Peter felt lonely. And scared. And profoundly guilty.

Not Being used to doing nothing and not being good at waiting, the agent drove home. He took Satchmo for a long walk, showered for over half an hour and convinced himself to eat a few bites. Then with case files, he sat down on the couch with a stack of case files and must have nodded off.

The hospital called just before six in the morning. Peter was on the road within five minutes. About twenty minutes (and many traffic violations) later he was in the hospital elevator.

When he entered the hospital corridor, a nurse approached him, apparently waiting for his arrival.

“Agent Burke, my name is Jenny and I’m Neal’s nurse. Dr Cheng should be here within the next hour. Please follow me.” She was short, in her late forties, curvy with a no-nonsense look in her eyes.

“We moved him to a private room – the remains of anesthesia are still in his system along with some other drugs, so he hasn’t fully wakened yet. He’s been in and out for the last hour – each time he’s a bit more coherent – and a bit more agitated. We hope he will wake up soon. When he does, please try to keep him calm and press the call button. We need to assess his condition.”

Peter followed her to Neal’s room. The room was spacious, pleasantly decorated by hospital standards, with a huge window. The agent was sure that it wasn’t a typical, government-paid insurance option.

There was a bag sitting on the chest of drawers in the corner and before he even managed to raise his brows in a question, the nurse explained that, “Mrs Ellington visited briefly – she brought his bag and promised to be back later in the morning.”

Now Neal’s room made more sense – because Peter was sure that June had a lot of say in choosing the right hospital ‘accommodation’ for Neal. And probably for his care as well.

Neal looked still very pale but a bit better. His left arm was in a splint and placed atop a pillow. A blanket covered the rest of his body, hiding bruises and other abrasions. Several lines and tubes were attached to the young man’s body. He looked too thin and too vulnerable. Too young, too.

He must have been in a lot of pain, both physical and emotional, for twelve days, Peter realized not for the first time. And it was Peter’s fault. The agent was too afraid to ask if he would be ok, because how could someone be ok after such an ordeal. The nurse was apparently sensing the unasked question and enormous guilt.

“Agent Burke, he’ll be fine. It will take some time – but nothing is broken beyond repair. At least physically. We’ll know more about his mental state when he wakes up. He’s lucky. And alive. Keep that in mind. ” The nurse checked Neal’s vitals and left both men.

Peter paced the room for a while and then collapsed in the chair next to Neal’s bed. After a while Neal’s eyes snapped open, but he didn’t fully wake up. The next time it happened, Peter tried to cajole Neal into staying awake but it didn’t work. The third time was the charm and blue eyes managed to stay open long enough to find Peter’s face, focus and recognize the agent. 

 “P’t’er?” Neal managed to croak.

“Hey, kiddo. You’ll be ok. You’re safe. Don’t try to talk just yet, ok?” Neal nodded but when he realized that he was in a hospital, he started to panic and beg Peter to take him home,

“P’t’er.  Please. Let’s go. Please.” Neal’s voice was hoarse and probably it hurt to talk but Neal didn’t give up easily.

“Neal, you’re in a hospital. You’re safe. You’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.” Peter tried to sound reassuring.

“H’spitals aren’t safe. Let’s go.”

The agent was stunned – he had known before that Neal didn’t like hospitals but this was a completely new level of fear.

“Neal, calm down, buddy. It’s safe here.”

Neal tried to push himself up and to get up. He was too weak to do so but he managed to sit up a bit suppressing cries of pain in the process. Fortunately, Dr Cheng with Jenny entered the room when the kid was about to disconnect some wires. Peter stood near his bed dumbfounded and unable to respond beyond muttering over and over that Neal had to calm down. The agent didn’t dare to touch Neal after the kid hissed _Don’t touch me_ and flinched when Peter tried to keep him in bed.

“Neal, whoa. Easy there. Lie back down.” Jenny tried.

“No. I’ve to go. It’s not safe. Please.” Neal tried to reason but Dr Cheng managed to gently pin him down. The doctor met the kid’s eyes and held the eye contact. Neal tried to struggle but he was too weak to put up much of a fight.

“Neal, there are two FBI agents standing guard just outside your room, a hospital security guard at the nurses’ station. And you can have someone with you 24/7 unless you want some privacy. Then let us know and you will be left alone. Nobody is going to hurt you.”  _It won’t happen again,_ Dr Cheng made that promise to himself.

“But you must calm down. Deep breaths. In and out. ”

“Sweetie, I will rotate shifts with another nurse – and I will introduce everyone to you – no strangers in your room.” Jenny added. It didn’t fully convince Neal.

“I could sign myself out against medical advice, couldn’t I?” Neal tried but his will to fight seemed to fade away.

“You could. Technically. But you won’t – the last thing we both need is to face the wrath of June and my wife.” Peter’s brain must have rebooted in the meantime reminding him that he was trained, that he knew what to do, that it was his job to keep Neal calm and safe and the agent managed to respond.

“Well, I think that Mrs Ellington wouldn’t ever forgive me if I let you go before you’re ready to be discharged.”  Dr Cheng added.

Neal seemed to ponder on his options. He wasn’t happy to stay but he didn’t have much of a choice right now.

 “Can Peter stay?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Peter smiled. He would call Hughes to tell him that he would take personal time until Neal was better and if his boss had a problem with that, he could hand in his resignation. The agent knew that he should have been more persistent about not lending Neal to Agent Thompson. And perhaps a lot of other things too.

 “Oh.” Neal sounded depleted of energy. Dr Cheng and Jenny checked Neal’s vitals and gave him some ice chips.

“Now, Agent Burke will tell us about traffic violations he can spot.” Jenny gave Peter a clue not to leave the room, but gave Neal some privacy and to distract him with conversation. The agent started talking and it visible put Neal at ease

 “Would be safer if you weren’t driving.”

“I don’t drive badly.”

“Very badly.”

Peter kept up an unending stream of examples of bad driving he had witnessed, with Neal attempting a bit of sarcasm from time to time, until the exam was finally over.

“Ok. We’re done here.” Dr Cheng announced after they were finished poking and prodding Neal. The kid tried not to look and interact with them unless they asked him a question about pain or dizziness and he was glad when they were done. The friendly banter with Peter was nice and was anchoring him in the safe world far away from the goons and the basement.

“Neal, let’s try to get some fluids in you. A sport drink or a protein shake?”

“Neither. I’m not hungry.” Neal groaned.

“You’re not hungry because you haven’t eaten in days. We need to put your digestive system back on track starting with fluids and soft foods.” Dr Cheng answered.

“Ginger ale?” Neal tried.

“That can be arranged.” Jenny answered and left the room and was back soon with a bottle of drink, a cup and a bendy straw. Neal reluctantly took a few sips. Dr Cheng, satisfied with his patient, readied himself to leave.

“Agent Burke, I will need you to sign some papers with insurance information. I have them in my office so please come in at any time.” Peter assumed correctly that it would be the business office, not the physician, who would be dealing with insurance papers, so he figured he’d better see what the doctor really wanted to tell him.

“Neal, would it be ok if I leave you with Jenny? I will be back soon.”

“Promise?” Neal didn’t like to sound or to act like a scared kid but he was too weak and too medicated to truly care.

Peter nodded, squeezed Neal’s uninjured hand and left. Neal finished less than a half of the bottle.

“Well done. Maybe some soup next time, hmm?” Neal didn’t want to think about it. His stomach was too empty to make any sounds and he had stopped being hungry a while back.

The nurse rearranged Neal’s blanket and touched his cold arm.

“Neal, are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You will be, though. But you have to be honest so we can make you more comfortable right away. So no cons about your health, are we clear here?”

 “Bossy.” Jenny smiled.

“So let me ask you again – do you want another blanket?”

Neal nodded.

“I’m still cold. And…” Neal’s voice broke and Jenny smiled gently at him.

“What is it sweetie? Any pain? Dizziness?”

“No… could I take a shower?” Nurses had cleaned Neal as best as they could but Jenny understood that it wasn’t enough. She also knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay upright or even walk to the bathroom on his own. His body needed all the fluids and nourishment he was being given to heal and get back his strength. At least the minimum required to take a shower.

“Well, let’s wait a couple of hours. Until you’re a bit stronger, ok?” Neal didn’t protest.

“Can I brush my teeth at least?”

“Of course. Let’s find your toothbrush.” Jenny rummaged through his bag to find his toiletries.

Neal brushed his teeth. Three times.

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Let’s cover you with a blanket and let you have some rest.”

Two blankets later Neal was on his side facing the huge window and taking in the sight of New York late morning traffic. His left side was worse bruised so it was easier to lie on the right.

“What's taking Peter so long?”

“I think he went to grab a coffee on his way back. But he will be here soon.” Jenny added. Mrs Ellington had made clear that Neal was to receive the best care possible and if it generated any additional costs, the bills should be sent to Riverside Drive. So Neal got a nice room and semi-private nursing care. But right now he needed someone close – not a nurse. Jenny hoped that Agent Burke would be back soon.

Peter didn’t grab a coffee. But he needed a minute before he came back from Dr Cheng’s office just to compose himself.

“Dr Cheng, what’s going on? Are there any complications regarding Neal’s health?”

“No. His forearm was set, all cuts and abrasions cleaned and stitched if necessary. We put him on antibiotics to fight off infection and we will introduce food gradually. If everything goes according to plan, he should be able to go home about a week. It will take time but he will heal. I will send you my report today.”

“Why I feel a ‘but’ somewhere here?”

“Agent Burke, it’s not about his current state.” The doctor sighed and asked, “What do you know about Neal’s childhood?”

“Not much. Why do you ask?”

“During surgery they removed an old piece of metal, a pin that was used to set broken bones.”

“A lot of children break their forearms…”

“Yes. But first the pin should have been removed, and second – each piece of that kind of medical equipment has a serial number. We traced this one to a child named Daniel Brooks who broke his left forearm falling from a bike when he was about three and a half.” Peter would have grinned – it was the first piece of information on Neal’s childhood – if it weren’t for the doctor’s solemn expression.

“So Neal changed his name – we suspected that because we didn’t have any information before he was 18 – and as a child broke his arm….” Peter sensed that there was something more.

“Have you wondered why Neal is so afraid of hospitals?”

“No idea.” Dr Cheng took a deep breath.

“Daniel Brooks was abducted from his hospital room. And never found.”

“What?”

“ Daniel – Neal was kidnapped. He probably doesn’t remember that but subconsciously he links hospitals with danger. Here is some information I managed to gather.”

Peter took the folder and browsed through it.

“Oh my God…”

“Agent Burke, I know it’s a lot but Neal is too weak right now – let him deal with recent events before you dig up his past. So please keep it to yourself.”

“Are you sure that Neal and Daniel are the same person?”

“Well, I think that’s your role to confirm… But it’s impossible to re-use medical equipment – that kind of medical equipment – even on the black market. And the pin was used  a long time ago. A coincidence?”

“I’ll check it but I don’t think so… We‘ll have to rule out a possible mistake…” Peter would like to find that it was a mistake – some mix-up with serial numbers – but he truly didn’t believe it. The photo of Daniel Brooks revealed the kid’s blue eyes. There was some resemblance…

“Besides, there are signs of other fractures – ribs, collar bone, small bones in his foot. Whoever raised him, wasn’t the parent of the year…” Peter didn’t know how to respond.

“ And right now you’re his security blanket – so please keep him company. My guess is that he didn’t receive a lot of attention and care when he was sick as a child. Mrs Ellington will be here to help you but we need to provide a sense of security for him. That’s our priority right now. I know he’s a criminal on work release but don’t handcuff him to the bedrail or don’t interrogate him – not until I clear him for testifying. I’m afraid that recent events might have triggered some memories.”

“Memories?”

“Agent Burke, the old injuries weren’t accidental – they were inflicted on Neal. Probably by a care giver.”

“Are you telling me that he was abused?”

“Yes. I would say that he didn’t receive a lot of medical attention too – for example his collar bone – it must have healed on his own. As I told you before, I want to keep him for about a week in the hospital and then the rest will depend on him – a few weeks before he will be ready for desk duty I would say. And a safe environment is key here.”

Peter nodded – he wasn’t good at comforting but he promised himself that he would do his best, so he took the folder and left the doctor’s office. He called Hughes to tell him that he would stay with Neal for as long as it would be needed. Peter’s boss didn’t say a word of complaint. They both knew that technically – according to his deal – Neal should be transported to the prison infirmary for further care as soon as he was stable enough but Peter hoped that Hughes would deal with it.

Then the agent dialed Diana’s number and told her to gather all the information she could find on Daniel Brooks’ kidnapping case and to keep it off the record. She promised to come to the hospital with information and some gifts for Neal.

“Art magazines, sketchbooks, pencils? Anything else?”

“No alcohol. And make sure that everyone signs his get well card.”

“I will.”

When he entered Neal’s room, he put the folder away and approached the kid’s bed. Jenny smiled and left the room telling them to press the call button if they needed anything.

“How was the coffee?” Neal asked barely visible under the mound of blankets.

“As bad as it could be.” Peter lied, putting on a fake smile.

“Are you sure you don’t want another blanket? I saw some left.” Peter teased.  

“I’ll think about it.” Neal smiled.

“Are you warm enough?” Peter asked gently, watching Neal’s still too pale skin.

“I’m getting there.”

Peter excavated Neal’s right hand from under the covers mindful of an IV and an oxi-meter and took it into his palms and gently rubbed it.

“Yeah, I feel it. A human popsicle under an Everest of blankets.” Peter said.

Neal chuckled and coughed.

“Oh.”

“Easy there. Why don’t you close your eyes and get some rest? I’m not going anywhere.” Peter gently put Neal’s hand back under blankets and started to rub small circles on the kid’s back.

“Promise?”

“Yeah. Unless June strangles me…”

“No, she would hire someone…”

“Smartass.”  Neal smiled but his energy was fading.

“Sleep.” Neal closed his eyes and then opened them, looking terrified.

“I’m here, Neal. It’s safe here.”

The kid closed his eyes and the pattern was repeated until Neal’s breath evened out and he fell asleep.

When Peter was sure he was sleeping , he put his free hand to his mouth to choke back sobs and cried silently.

He – a man who was so proud because of his devotion to law and rules – had put a kid – probably scared, abused, with a hell instead of a childhood – behind bars.

No amount of tears could make it right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginnings and hard truths…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU so much for kudos and reviews!!!! WOW! I didn't expect that...
> 
> And as always - my lovely ayam did the hard work - thank you so much!!!!
> 
> All mistakes are mine and sorry for them!

 “Agent Hughes, when Agent Burke arrested Caffrey how old was he?”

“We believed that he was over 20.”

“And Burke pursued Caffrey for over a year and a half?”

“Give or take.”

“Did you check Caffrey’s birth certificate?”

“It was a fake one. A very good one. His ID and driving license were a fine examples of forgery, too.”

“Did you try to check his background?”

“Yes. But we didn’t find any information – no school certificates, no family members, no memorabilia. Nothing. As if Neal didn’t exist before his 18th birthday. He didn’t send cards or letters to anyone but Peter Burke during his stay in prison. No visitors.”

“Didn’t it seem strange?”

“With all due respect, we did a thorough search on Caffrey’s childhood. And it came back empty. Case closed. Another criminal put away. The end of the story. At least it was back then.” Hughes could ask where Child Service had been all these years. His people shouldn’t take the blame – they all felt like they had failed right now – they were good agents and they blamed themselves enough.

“Did Caffrey ever mention that he might not be as old as he claimed to be?”

“No.”

“Didn’t he look too young to be 20?”

“He was slender and muscular but nobody suspected that he was that young – even Caffrey himself. He added almost two years – but the woman who took him made him believe that he was older too. ”The lady sensed that they were going nowhere with questions about Neal’s life history – with no paper trail there was no definitive method of assessing age – neither dental scan, nor wrist scans were precise enough. They were methods of estimating age, not determining it.

“How did Caffrey end up as your CI in your division.” Hughes smiled for the first time in the meeting.

“I would blame postcards and cookies.” _And Elizabeth Burke,_ Hughes thought.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s say that by coincidence – he helped us catch a bad guy and we offered him a deal.” Hughes clarified.

*****

June entered Neal’s hospital room and was surprised by what she saw. Agent Peter Burke was sitting  by the kid’s bed and was crying. Silently.

Her relationship with the agent was neither the best, not the worst. She understood that he was law enforcement to the bone. June wasn’t. Her beloved husband and the law weren’t the best of friends. But her Byron was the most noble person she had ever known. Funny – a noble criminal. So she knew that in too many cases there was a sad story hidden behind a crime. When she met Neal, she saw something there beneath his mask and blue eyes. A frightened child? A young man seeking love? She couldn’t name it but she definitely didn’t see a conman, or a criminal. Her task was easier because he had been injured and not truly able to charm her. Besides, she was a wife of a conman, so she had learnt a few tricks.

June remembered the day when Neal and she met for the first time. Her granddaughter had been working in one of the jewelry stores in Manhattan for the past couple of months. Neither Cindy, nor June knew that there had been robberies in three other shops in the last couple of weeks. None of them had heard that the crimes had escalated and a guard had been shot during the last robbery. None of them suspected that Cindy’s store would be the next target.

It had all ended up well only because of coincidence – White Collar was investigating an insurance fraud and Neal had gone undercover to gather some information about possible wrongdoings of the store manager. And Neal – called a trouble magnet by Peter that day – saved Cindy, got pistol-whipped and helped to catch the bad guys. An ordinary day in Neal Caffrey’s life. 

June didn’t ask for details when she hugged Cindy later on the curb. She didn’t pay much attention to a skinny young man who had butterfly bandages on his temple and was protesting against something. If she had listened more closely, she would have learned that he didn’t want to go to the hospital. And his protests were effective because he was led to a car and taken to a motel room that was his lodging for the time being. Calling it a home would be a serious overstatement.

June took Cindy home and when she heard the story, she decided to find the hero who had saved her beloved granddaughter. It didn’t take long for her lawyer and friend to find an address.

“Don’t expect much from the government.” Mozzie told her, giving the location and details about Neal Caffrey. The young man was on work-release from federal prison – he was sentenced to six years for bond forgery because the FBI could have proven his involvement only in this crime but was suspected of far more ‘white collar’ crimes. Caffrey got a tracking anklet, 2-mile radius, small stipend and $700 for housing.

She took her cook – Miguel – with her for protection. Not from the skinny guy with mischievous smile as Cindy described him but from anybody else. June knew that the neighborhood wasn’t the best and Miguel was big enough to scare off whoever needed to be scared off.

She brought Neal a bag of expensive chocolates and an invitation to dinner. When she entered his room – small but tidy, with broken down and cheap furniture and a sleeping bag on the bed – she was barely able to breathe. _How he could survive here?_ He must have sensed her feelings but said nothing trying to maneuver the conversation round to the subject of Belgian art of hand-made chocolates.

June perceived him as a polite and smart person. She couldn’t not notice that Neal was also skinny – not anorectic skinny, but I-skip-meals-from-time-to-time skinny.  He was also pale and looked tired.

They talked for a while.

“Thank you very much for coming and for the gifts but if you don’t mind I’d like to rest for a while. It’s been a long day.”

“Yes, I know. I hope to see you next week for dinner. My house is within your radius.”

“It’ll be a great pleasure.” Neal would have his check on Tuesday – so he would be able to buy a nice – or at least decent –  bottle of wine and flowers. He would have to survive the rest of the month on snacks in the office or maybe he would dig into his emergency jar. It was an emergency, wasn’t it?

 Neal accompanied June to the door – he was glad that she was leaving because he really needed to lie down. Unfortunately, she dropped her purse on her way out. Neal being a gentleman bent and retrieved it. It almost ended up as he planned. Almost. He swayed. Badly. Then his knees buckled and he couldn’t lock his legs to stand upright. June grabbed his elbow and put her arm around his waist.

“Let’s sit for a while.”  She guided him down to the bed and called Miguel.

“I can’t leave him here – in this God-forgotten place. Concussed. He needs medical attention.” Miguel nodded.

“Hey, buddy? You ok to walk?”  Neal tried to stand but it didn’t end up well so Miguel half-carried him to the nearby car.

“A bag of bones.” The cook muttered. They drove to a private clinic not far away from June’s mansion. Her doctor and friend met them there.

“Who do we have here?”

“This is Neal Caffrey. He saved my granddaughter from the miscreants who tried to rob the shop she works in. He was hit in the head around ten this morning. That’s all I know.” June told him.

“Wasn’t he checked over on the scene or taken to the hospital?”

“I don’t think so. He’s on some kind of work release with the FBI so I doubt anyone cared.” Neal tried to tell them that he didn’t need medical attention.

“I’m fine. Jus’ lemme sleep.” He slurred his words and the doctor’s worries increased ten-fold.

“I need to do some scans. Quickly. Mr Caffrey, a nurse will help you get into a gown and we will make sure that the blow you took had no permanent effects.”

“I’m fine. Thank you but I’ve to go.” Neal pushed himself up from the gurney and abruptly lost consciousness.

“Damn it. Mr Caffrey? Neal? Open your eyes…We have to go now. Does he have any electronic devices with him?”

“John, he has a tracking anklet.”

“I’ve got to cut it. I can’t put him into an MRI with it.”

“Do whatever you have to and let me worry about the rest.” June added.

A few minutes after Neal’s anklet was cut, a bunch of US Marshals swarmed into the clinic demanding to search the place for an escaped convict.

“Gentlemen, Mr Caffrey was taken for scans due to a head injury sustained in the line of duty. You can’t go in there. You have to wait outside.” A nurse tried to stop them to no avail.

“I have an unconscious patient with possible life-threatening head injury and I won’t stop the scan. Out of the room now.” The doctor told them. To no avail.

“Doctor, you have a convict who cut his anklet. We have to arrest him.”

“Are you serious? I cut his anklet because he lost consciousness and it’s not possible to make a scan with it on. I don’t have time to deal with your red tape now. Out or I will file a complaint or worse – record this and go viral. Now.”

US Marshals reluctantly left the room. Agent Peter Burke arrived a few moments later and managed to convince them to leave Neal in his care.

“I have a spare band for his anklet. I will put it on him as soon as he is medically cleared.”

“Why did he end up in a private facility not in the ER?” One of the Marshals asked Peter.

“I have no idea.”

“I do.” An elegant elderly woman told him.

“Agent Peter Burke, I believe. My name is June Ellington. Let me solve the mystery for you. Neal’s actions saved my granddaughter this morning and I went to thank him. I didn’t expect to find him in need of medical care. Urgently. I didn’t suspect that you didn’t bother to have him checked after he sustained a head injury this morning. So I brought him here.” June’s voice was cold and measured. She didn’t yell at Peter – she didn’t have to. Her words were like needles. Precise. Painful.

“Damn it. He told me that he was fine.”

“And you believed a word of a conman with a head injury?”

“Yeah. And I’m in law enforcement.” Peter chuckled bitterly.

“What I was thinking"…he murmured.

"Will he be ok?”

June decided at that very moment that Peter Burke wasn’t a bad person. For a Suit. And maybe he could be reformed. A bit.

“I don’t know. Let’s wait for the doctor’s opinion.” The doctor was back within half an half of hour. Peter introduced himself and confirmed that he was Neal’s medical proxy.

“He has mild concussion but no intracranial bleeding. And his blood work could be better – his glucose levels are too low and he is malnourished and dehydrated. In my opinion he collapsed mostly because of the latter rather than his head injury. He is exhausted and stressed out. We will try to rehydrate him and make sure he eats something. Then he can go home if someone stays with him for the next day. I want to see him on Monday and if everything is as it should be, he can come back to work on Tuesday. Not a day earlier. Are we clear here?” Peter reluctantly nodded. It was Thursday evening so it shouldn’t be that much of an issue for anyone in the office. The biggest problem was that someone who should stay with Neal. Peter wasn’t sure if he should pack a bag and stay in Neal’s room or he should take him home. None of the options made him comfortable.

“John, thank you. Can I see him?” June asked.

“Yes. For a moment. Let him rest.”  The doctor led June and Peter to Neal’s room. The kid was on his side covered with a blanket. His eyes were half shut. He was still in his own clothes – a T-shirt and a pair of sweats.

“Darling, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Sorry for all this. I don’t like hospitals and I don’t need all this.”

“You do. Don’t worry about it right now. I know you have to rest but I was wondering if you might want to change your room – I have a small apartment to let and I would like to offer it to you.”

“Thanks. But I probably can’t afford it…And I’m a criminal.”

“Oh, nonsense. My husband was a conman and a criminal too. I told you that… And $700 per month is a fair amount. Agent Burke would agree that you could use a change of scenery, wouldn’t he?” June’s gaze at Peter didn’t leave any room for debate.

“Yes,”  Peter conceded, feeling definitely coerced.  

“Wonderful. Let’s send Miguel to pick up your stuff and we‘ll drive home when the IV is finished.” June left the room.

“Damn it, Neal. Why didn’t you say something? That you weren’t feeling ok, hmm?”

“C’mon, Peter. It wasn’t that bad. I can take care of myself.”

“I see that…You should have called me…” Peter would have loved to continue chastising Neal but a nurse kicked him out of the room.

“Agent Burke, he needs rest. Out. Now.” Peter managed to convince her that he had to put the anklet back but after he was done she didn’t let him stay.

“You will have to wait to read the poor boy the riot act. But be prepared for Mrs Ellington’s response.” The nurse told him on his way out.

An hour later Neal, with a small bowl of green Jelly-O in his stomach, was bundled into the car and driven to his new accommodation. A place that really could be called home. The first two days were a blur. Neal slept most of the time and was fed whatever little he managed. He stayed in one of the guest rooms while his apartment was cleaned and readied for him to move in. On Sunday he was more aware of his surroundings and more astonished by the place – especially when he was shown his new home. He tried to process all these good things happening to him and waited for the proverbial other shoe to drop. For the demands to come. He had learnt that the hard way. Neal didn’t think that people could do something good and not want something in return. When June came to invite him for a late lunch, he tried to protest.

“Mrs Ellington, thank you. But it’s not necessary. I can go shopping and cook for myself.”

“First – it’s June. Second – you have to get better and not worry about cooking. Besides, Miguel feels more like he has something to do. What’s the point in cooking for one person? And most importantly, it’s my pleasure to have meals with you.”

Then he tried to give her back the nice sheets.

“I have a sleeping bag…So it’s not necessary.” Neal tried his brightest smile. June didn’t take the bait.

“You _had_ a sleeping bag. Now it’s in the possession of a homeless man living next to your last accommodation. If you need some clean sheets or towels, they’re stored here. And I hope you’ll like these suits… ”

Neal got an apartment with a million-dollar view, closet full of very nice clothes, huge breakfasts and nice dinners. Miguel made it his goal to put some meat on the kid’s bones and with his cooking it wasn’t that hard. On Monday Neal looked better and got a clear bill of health from the doctor. He still wasn’t at ease with the turn his life had taken but June was persistent in making him feel wanted. Loved. Taken care of. During the weekend when he was up and around, Neal talked with Cindy about art and played board games with Savannah when they visited. June felt that he would fit into her home and it made her happy. She sensed that Neal would need more time and persuasion to understand that her actions were genuine. On Tuesday Neal made his last attempt to protest but was shushed.

“Eat up. I don’t want anybody to think that I can’t cook because there’s a scarecrow living here.”

“Miguel, I can’t afford all these – it’s nice but my check won’t cover one week of your cooking. I just can’t….Mrs Ellington rented me a room not a room with meals. C’mon I’ll eat something in the office.”

“You will eat brunch in the office.” Miguel waved a brown bag with some goodies.

“Now you will eat breakfast.” The cook pushed a plate of crepes with fruit and a glass of fresh orange juice.

“Miguel…” Neal’s stomach was growling and he would have loved to eat it but he had learnt the hard way that nothing was given for free. And he couldn’t afford paying for all this.

“Mrs Ellington, could you please come here…” Miguel called for backup.

“Miguel…” Neal tried.

“Yes, is there a problem? Do you need anything?”

“This bag of bones is trying to refuse eating. Putting my reputation on the line. People will start saying that I can’t cook! That I let someone starve! ” Miguel trailed off and switched to Spanish, getting more and more agitated.

“Neal, darling, if you don’t like it, Miguel can prepare something different…”

“June, it’s not that…”

“So what is it?” She knew that he was trying to tell her so she let him.

“June, I can’t pay you… I can’t steal or forge for you so maybe it would be better…I don’t want to go back to prison…so maybe I should pack my bags…” She interrupted him.

“Neal, I won’t let you go back to that God-forgotten place. I don’t want your money or anything else from you – maybe besides good conversation, an occasional game of chess or Monopoly or a glass of wine together. No strings attached. And now eat.”

When he still hesitated, she whispered, “I know it’s hard to learn to trust in people but you have to try.”

Miguel barely hid his smile when a month later Neal’s baggy slacks weren’t that baggy anymore. The cook liked the kid – Neal helped in the kitchen and in Miguel’s family life – a small art project for his children’s school now and then, a nice sketch or a postcard for his wife from time to time. The kid was smiling more and he was more relaxed. He didn’t talk about his childhood – he briefly mentioned that the prison wasn’t that bad. He acquired a dear friend in June’s lawyer – Mozzie - and the duo managed to entertain June with stories about art and crime, or conspiracy theories if Neal was too tired to protest against them.

It seemed like Neal wanted to get a life for himself. A good, fulfilling life. With a family made by bonds if not by blood. With small dreams coming true.

It seemed like Neal would manage to find happiness in life. Almost. Until the day when the undercover work went south.

And seemed, like, he, almost, might, succeed, didn’t count anymore.

When Neal went missing, June, Mozzie and Miguel made a promise that they would find him. And bring him home. Of course, the trio had enough street contacts and debts to collect to find enough information. Unfortunately, three different locations were not in the plan. So they needed help – and as much as they didn’t want the FBI to get involved in their pursuit of justice, they didn’t have that much of a choice at the end. Fortunately, the suits managed not to blow anything and Neal was found. The rest was the aftermath. The rest could be fixed.

 June knocked on the door, giving Peter a moment to compose himself.

“He looks so young and innocent…” June started.

“He does.” Peter replied. June sat on the Neal’s bed and rearranged the covers – not because they needed that but because it gave her something to do.

 “I’m not sure if I should work with him… It was too close, June….Too close.” He whispered. June debated with herself for a moment before she replied. She just hoped that it was a smart move.

“Peter, I wouldn’t look too hard for the man who took Neal. It’s a dangerous world out there…” June’s smile was implacable. The agent could only suspect that Paul Morris wouldn’t be found. Ever.

When Neal moved to Riverside Drive, Peter, being Peter, checked into his landlady and found out about her husband, Byron.  He was a conman but a decent man who he took care of people working with or for him. Probably June just collected one of the debts someone owed her husband. Probably no evidence could be found. Probably thanks to that Peter would sleep better. Probably years ago he would have cared. About the justice. Both for victims and criminals. Probably. It was better this way.

Years ago Peter was certain that he wouldn’t change his attitude and understanding of justice. For him it was always black and white, a boundary nobody should cross. Cut and dried. Well, when he put Neal behind bars he hadn’t thought about the kid’s past. Like he didn’t ponder any other criminal’s past. Truth be told he didn’t anticipate he would ever be working with him either.

Then it was sweet and annoying (or mostly annoying) to get postcards from a criminal he locked up but Peter considered them a way of being teased, being reminded that the war was not over yet, that Neal hadn’t given up on conning him and going for a bigger score. Now they had acquired a new meaning – and Peter promised himself to look at them closely. And to try to find the clue he missed, the call for help he didn’t answer, anything that could make him feel even more guilty.

Neal’s postcards – probably not by intention–saved Peter’s marriage. When the agent forgot about his wedding anniversary and his wife got a lovely drawing from Neal instead of any kind of present (or even a verbal remembrance) from her husband, things between Peter and El were tense. But El was forgiving – after she had her little revenge, of course.

She sent Peter to Sing Sing with a package of excellent cookies (and “Maybe there will be some for you next year if you don’t forget about something important”) and some drawing materials. Peter didn’t dare protest. So the next afternoon he drove there. Hours earlier something literally had blown up in his face and nobody knew what it was. Peter was irritated. Both by the fact that he had to eat humble pie from his wife and that he couldn’t solve a case. Not to mention that his suit was ruined with that something all over it.

And then a miracle happened – Neal recognized that something and helped to solve their first case. Then the kid started talking about work release and Peter agreed. The agent didn’t suspect that agreeing to that would lead to him sitting in a hospital room watching over his CI who was too young to even drink legally.

June waited for Peter’s mind to return from whatever trip he had taken and continued.

“Don’t you dare quit on him. He needs this – the job he’s been doing, the fact that people like you and me show him that he is valued. Don’t waste this, Peter. We will work through his work release rules to prevent situations like this one but don’t you dare send him back… Not after what just happened…”

Peter smiled bitterly. He knew that if it was confirmed that Daniel Brooks and Neal Caffrey were one and the same person, work release wouldn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sure if he should continue this conversation – especially in Neal’s room-but the kid seemed to be fast asleep. The kid – a word that had developed a new meaning. 

“June, I built my career on Neal’s case. Let’s face the facts –  I succeeded because I sent a child to prison….”

“Peter, what are you talking about?” Peter knew that probably he should keep this to himself but he just had to get it off his chest.

“Hasn’t Neal looked too young to you?”

“Well, I suspected that he might be a bit younger… But how did you find out?” June didn’t want to reveal the secret that Neal told her – that he changed his date of birth – and added two years give or take. Two years that didn’t change anything from the legal point of view. Four changed far more.

“The doctor found a pin used during the operation and linked it to a child. If there’s no mistake – and I highly doubt that there is – Neal was abducted when he was about three and a half. I did the math – Neal was 15 years 10 months and 19 days old when I arrested him. He’s not even 21 now. June, what have I done…?”

June was surprised – she didn’t believe that Neal lied to her. She would have liked to continue the conversation but Neal started to stir.

“Peter, go to the bathroom. He can’t see you like this.”

When Neal woke up, his eyes were looking for something and he seemed a bit disappointed when that something wasn’t found. He smiled at June and she smiled back. She knew what he was looking for.

“Peter is in the bathroom. He waited patiently for someone to keep you company before he went. But he did have to go.” She winked at him, gave him some water and Neal relaxed. But only for a moment.

“Thanks for the bag… Do you think that I can pick up some stuff I left…It’s important…kind of… ?” Neal told her in a small voice…

“Darling, whatever you need – I packed some toiletries and clothes but I can call Miguel and he will bring it with him. He’s cooking something for you and he will join us later. So what do you need?”

“A small duffel bag….And thank you for not throwing it away… “

“How could I throw anything away? I knew that you would be back. Miguel is planning on building your strength back right away and with his cooking…” Thoughts of food made Neal quite uncomfortable – he didn’t think that he would be able to keep much down.  He was afraid that his friendship with Miguel’s cooking had come to an end. But at least he still had a place to stay.

“June, you’re not going to kick me out?”

“Sweetie, why would I do that?”

“I’m nothing but trouble…”

“Nonsense. You’re nothing but joy. ” She let her words to sink in.

“No more talking about it. I’ll let you go only when I approve your new accommodation. And don’t think about turning down Miguel’s help – he assisted my husband when he wasn’t well and he’s a great caregiver.” Neal smiled, yawned and drifted back to sleep.

It broke June’s heart that he – even for a brief second – considered that she would let him go, that she would throw away his meager possessions. It broke her heart even further to see him so vulnerable and so weak. But it shred her heart to pieces to think that he was kidnapped as a child and subjected to God-knows-what. She understood why Peter – the almighty-federal-agent-Burke - cried. She understood it because she was so close to tears herself.

When Jenny entered Neal’s room to check on her patient, she was surprised to see traces of tears on both Peter’s and June’s faces.

“He’ll be all right. It will take time but he will be ok.” She tried to reassure them.

They needed to believe that. But it wasn’t that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still with me?
> 
> Hope so...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the Brooks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for a good fic - I read "Of love and hunger' at ffnet and I cried... Literally...
> 
> Anyway, THANKS for kudos, reviews... You made my day...
> 
> Ayam helped. A lot. As alwyas. THANK YOU!!!
> 
> TIssue warning... and the committee takes place after the events described in the fic...

“Agent Hughes, when your agents were pursuing Caffrey didn’t they find anything that might have suggested that he had committed his crimes under duress?” The lady from the Department of Justice decided to continue her pursuit of wrong doings on the part of the FBI in the investigation.

Hughes was getting more and more exasperated with all these questions. Yes, his agents did have a look at the evidence once again when they discovered that Caffrey was underage when he committed the bond forgery. Yes, some of the evidence made more sense now – with what they knew now – like a footprint that didn’t match and probably belonged to Caffrey before his growth spurt, like an encrypted _Help-me_ note… But it didn’t mean that years ago they hadn’t done their job properly –they certainly had.

“I can’t give you a simple answer to that question.” She had a curious look at her face. Hughes sighed and continued,

“Caffrey had been sending postcards and drawings to Agent Burke ever since he had become the one responsible for Caffrey’s capture. There were different quotes on most of them. We – I was the senior agent – had interpreted them as a way of teasing, playing with us – with Agent Burke in particular. It never occurred to anyone that Caffrey had included some kind of hidden message in them. Now we have discovered  that he had encrypted _Help-me_ messages in them. But at the time there was no reason to think that he might genuinely need assistance. Of course, after we captured him we asked if he had any partners or if there was someone who made him pursue illegal activities. And during his interrogation he told us not to worry about it. It was strange – not a simple denial but I quote: _Don’t worry about it. It’s not your problem._ ”

“Have you ever wondered why he gave such an answer?”

“As I told you before – we thought about it as a way of teasing, a game of wits. So we were all just happy to put him behind bars. He didn’t cause any fuss and his trial was over before it really began!” Hughes blamed the poor excuse of a lawyer Neal had been assigned for the kid’s sentence.

“Do you still believe that’s true – that he was teasing you?” Hughes needed a minute before answering. It was his second great failure while catching Neal Caffrey. It would haunt him until the end of his days.

“No. We were just too late to be able to help him. Neal tried to protect someone – and she was already dead when we caught him.”

*****

June and Peter sat in silence next to Neal’s bed. The kid was sleeping peacefully, barely stirring. Jenny came and went, checking her patient’s vitals and making sure that he and his visitors were as comfortable as possible.

Miguel brought some homemade soup and had to work really hard at holding back tears. Even though June had informed him about Neal’s condition, hearing about it and seeing his friend lying in the hospital bed and looking nothing like himself were something completely different.

“We will make you feel better. I promise.” Then with a deadly glance at Peter he promised to be back in a couple of hours.

Neal finally woke up around noon, managed to eat some soup and fell asleep soon after. He was still clingy – he checked on Peter’s and June’s presence before closing his eyes.

“Sorry for not being very good company.” He murmured, bringing tears to June’s eyes. 

“You’re alive, darling. It’s the best company I could have dreamt of less than a day ago.” June told him and Neal managed a weak smile.

Soon after Diana brought gifts for him and files for Peter – all of them connected with one case – Daniel Brooks. Before she managed to lure Peter outside, she unpacked her bags, filling Neal’s room with cards, art supplies, some other goodies and a soft plushy pillow – round-shaped, colorful and hard enough to brace against during coughing fits.

“I got something like that when I broke my ribs. It helped.” She explained her reasons. At least the rational ones. _I wanted to buy a toy for a kid I helped lock away. Like it could make anything better._ Probably her true intentions were less rational and far more guilt- and shame-ridden.

She talked a bit with June and then asked Peter to step outside the room with her to deal with the last case. Diana couldn’t help herself any longer.

 “You think that Danny Brooks and Neal Caffrey are one and the same person, don’t you?”

“Diana…” Peter tried to sound annoyed but he wasn’t surprised. She was a damn good agent.

“I looked at Danny’s photo and his big blue eyes are quite unique, don’t you think?” She asked him, adding, “Boss, you can trust me.” Peter sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her – he did. But he himself didn’t know how to deal with this ‘case.’ Besides, she was on the team that had captured Neal. And Peter knew that if he felt guilty, she felt that guilt too.

“Let’s hope we’ve got it wrong. Is there DNA for Danny that can be compared to Neal’s?”

“Peter, you better sit down for that.”

“Why?”

“There’s DNA, they’re even fingerprints. Brooks’ family members were devoted to law enforcement and the justice system for generations. That’s why they fingerprinted their family members. Just in case…I ordered the comparison of Neal’s and little Danny’s fingerprints and DNA. Off  book.” Peter nodded.

“Boss. I browsed through Danny’s file – he was kidnapped from a hospital – he was just transferred from the post-op to another room and a nurse went for his parents. It happened on April 17, 1998, after a surgery to repair a fracture in his left arm. They looked for him everywhere and for years but they didn’t find anything. As far as I can tell, the investigation was thorough and all leads were pursued. All of them were dead ends…They weren’t even sure if the kidnapper’s target was Danny or he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“It wasn’t connected with Brooks’ occupation?”

“Brooks was prosecutor back then but they didn’t think so. The abduction was well planned – it took them 15-20 minutes to lock down the hospital and Danny was gone. He was left alone, unattended for mere minutes, Peter. Agent Martin Fitzgerald from Missing Persons Unit promised to call his ex-boss, Jack Malone and ask about more details. I gave him both our numbers.”

“Ok. How did they know that Danny wasn’t the target?”

“Nobody can be sure but on average 3 to 6 children of similar age had surgery every day. Everything was too well planned – Danny had an accident about two hours before the surgery. He was riding a bike and fell off when he got tangled up with a dog. The owner of the dog was questioned  - but she had been living in the neighborhood for years so she was ruled out as a suspect.  They concluded that it wasn’t planned. I mean it was – but not necessarily for Danny.”

“So the kidnapper wanted a kid and with a window of opportunity he got one…”

“Exactly.”

“Thanks… Brooks…”  Peter wondered about the name for a while – it sounded too familiar. And now he connected it.

“Oh my God, Michael Brooks, the judge…”

“The one and the only. He was on Neal’s case.”

“A father put his son in jail…” Peter trailed off.

 “His underage son. I did the math, Boss…” Diana knew that this was the biggest problem – Neal aka Danny shouldn’t have been sent to prison. And they all – she, Peter, Hughes, had failed.

“I did that too, Diana.” Peter’s voice started to break but he composed himself quickly enough.

 “Neal’s official date of birth says that he was born on January 16, 1990. I caught him in June of 2010. I started chasing him in November of 2008. So he was over 18 when I started chasing him and over 20 when he went to prison – according to my knowledge at the time.”

“Yeah. But Danny Brooks was born on August 1, 1994.”

“I read his hospital files. I know that!” Peter snapped but apologized quickly.

“Sorry…He was 14 when he did the infamous bond forgery… And almost two months short of 16 when he was arrested… Damn it! We must have missed something! How could I have not seen that? ” They were interrupted by the ringing of Diana’s phone.

“Oh shit…” Diana saw the incoming number and paled. Peter’s phone buzzed to life at almost the same minute. Both of them stepped away to answer the calls and then continued the conversation.

“Peter, there’s a preliminary match of fingerprints.  Neal Caffrey is Daniel Brooks.” Diana started.

 “Judge Brooks called Hughes and asked why someone from White Collar Division was looking into his child’s case and threatened to file a complaint if he doesn’t hear explanations by the end of the day. I told Hughes to give him my number.” Peter summed up his call.

“Sorry Peter.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. The file must have been flagged.” Peter sighed and added,  “Let’s not worry about it right now. They have a right to know as soon as possible.” Diana just nodded.

“Boss, I’ll head back to the office. I’ve got to help Clinton to wrap up the paperwork on the raid. He’s not himself today. I think that finding Neal in that basement barely alive freaked him out more than he’s willing to admit. Do you think he can come back later and visit?”

“Why not? But I can’t guarantee that Neal will be awake. He’s been sleeping a lot, which is perfectly normal – his nurse tells us that every time he is sleeping when she checks his vitals. He slept through your visit.” Peter smiled weakly.

“Don’t worry about it. He needs rest.” Diana added. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep her emotions in check and not reveal something about Neal aka Danny. And Neal – even in his weaker state – probably would sense that something was off. So maybe it was better this way…After saying goodbye she headed back to the office.

Michael Brooks called soon afterwards. Peter agreed to come to the judge’s house upon his request with pertinent information about his child’s case. The agent didn’t see how he could play it differently, when Judge Brooks’s strong voice left no room for debate:

“Agent Burke, have you stumbled upon any information connected with my son or are you just one of these agents who share details of my son’s case while drinking beer with your buddies and don’t care about the family’s pain? Why did one of your agents check my son’s case files? I need a straight answer right now…” He didn’t need to add what he would do if he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Your Honor, I think that we have some information but I would prefer to talk to you in person.”

“Did you find Danny’s body?” Peter was surprised by the question.

“No. But what I found might be important. I would like to meet with you.” Brooks gave Peter his home address and scheduled a meeting later in the afternoon. Peter was surprised that the judge didn’t want to meet in his office but didn’t question his request.

When Peter re-entered Neal’s room, Miguel was there – he had brought more food and some other things, including a warm duvet. A coughing fit woke Neal up some time after. Jenny came to check on her patient.

“How are you feeling Neal?”

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s try again – any pain, dizziness, shortness of breath?”

“No…I’m fine…”

“Ok, let’s leave it for now. Miguel, could you help Neal sit up a bit?” Jenny listened to Neal’s lungs.

“No changes.” She announced.

“Jenny, can I take shower? You promised…”

“Neal, I’m not sure if you’re strong enough.”

“Please… I can smell myself… I can feel dirt on my skin… Please…I can walk to the bathroom.” Neal tried to push himself up but Miguel intervened.

 “Not a chance, sport.”

“Please…”

After some negotiating and bargaining, it was agreed that Neal would take a shower with a cover for his broken arm and with Miguel’s assistance if he promised to eat something afterwards. Since Miguel would be there, Peter was allowed to leave for a while. He just had to lie his ass off that he had to pick up El from the airport. Nobody needed to know that she was already home cooking and baking ( _Poor kid. We need to make him feel better,_ she announced. She prepared some meat and potatoes as comfort food for Peter as well). Of course, he had to promise to be back as soon as possible.

“Stay out of trouble, kiddo.” Peter told Neal good-naturedly,

“As always.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

While Neal was carried to the bathroom to get his shower, carried back to a newly changed bed with a warm duvet, fed and then tucked in, Peter drove to Brooks’ house.

He was greeted by the judge on the steps outside a comfortable house in an affluent neighborhood.

“Agent Burke, I wanted my wife to be present for the conversation. We promised that we would go through any visit like this one together…It’s hard for us… ” Peter just nodded.

 “You told us that there might be some new information regarding our case. We can’t keep going back and rekindling hope again and again. We’ve been there, done that. There were clairvoyants, prayers, tips, arguments, alcohol, days of silence, a parody of a return to normal life… When your child is dead, it’s a tragedy. But you have a grave to visit, a closure. When your child is missing, it’s like an unending circle – hope, despair, hope, despair – until there’s nothing left. Spare us if you’re not sure.”

“Your Honor, I’m pretty sure. I will be certain in a couple of days. But it unlikely that I’m mistaken.”

“Please do as she tells you… She will show you his room first...I will wait downstairs… It’s important for her that you understand. She has her own routine for guests like you – barring any news… Please respect that.”  Michael Brooks as a father – a devastated man who failed to protect his son – bore no resemblance to Judge Brooks as an unstoppable protector of the law. Peter followed him in and was greeted by Brooks’ wife.

“Agent Burke, my name is Ann Brooks. Please follow me.” She led him upstairs to show him a child’s room. Danny’s room.

“We couldn’t make ourselves to do anything about his room… Next year…we said… He would be twenty-one in August and still… He won’t play duplos but… I packed his toys into boxes so they wouldn’t be destroyed by dust or sun…But mostly because this way I still can smell him…At least I think so…” She moved through the room – full of toys, books, crayons, love, hope and despair. Ready for a kid to come back…She stopped and showed Peter the contents of one of the boxes.

“He loved to play with his animals – my aunt made them. He could spent hours playing, talking, giggling and inventing stories.”  There was a zoo of plushy animals – a zebra, a hippo, an owl, a tiger, a bear, a giraffe and some more - each full of memories of better times. All animals had a small green clover with the initials DB.

“One animal is missing, though.”  Ann Brooks told Peter.

“A lion.” Peter answered back.

“Yes.” She sounded surprised but then she must have reminded herself that it was all over the files. Peter didn’t need the files. He knew that it was the lion because he had seen it. The plushy lion with something that years ago must have been a green clover leaf with the same initials. He saw it on the day when Neal was released from prison. The kid had asked to be driven to one of the banks to pick up something.

“Damn it, Neal. If it’s something illegal, you’re going back. On your first day out.”

“It’s not. Some stuff.” Of course, Peter inspected the stuff  – it was a duffel bag with some clothes, a few sketchbooks and drawing materials and a framed portrait of a young women.

“She’s beautiful. Is it your girlfriend, Romeo?” Peter teased Neal.

“She was truly beautiful. She’s dead. I don’t want to talk about it.” Neal answered.

“Sorry… I didn’t know.” Neal just shrugged his shoulders. Peter checked the rest of the bag.

Then there was the lion. With rumpled mane, faded colors and generally worn-out features. It looked like a toy that was used for too long time. Peter didn’t comment on it – not after the girl. He handed all the things back to Neal.

“Ok.” They drove to the office to solve their first case with Neal as an official CI.

So Peter knew that it must have been the lion…the missing piece of the set.

“Agent Burke?”

“Sorry…So the lion?”

“It was his favorite… He took it everywhere. We took it, of course, to the hospital… It was never found… My aunt had passed away before he was taken so she couldn’t sew a new one… It was a small comfort for me thinking that maybe at least he had his toy with him… But it’s not important, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He tried to reassure her. She continued.

 “There’s a room next to this one full of gifts. I couldn’t stop myself and I bought him a present for each birthday and each Christmas. A small gift. I imagined what he would like, what he would be like. That one day he would come back home and would celebrate all these missing years…” She sat down on the bed, straightening non-existing wrinkles. Then she stood up.

“Let’s go downstairs. My husband’s been waiting for us.” When they were in the living room, Ann Brooks continued.

“This house is too big for us – we wanted children. Danny was the first…and the last…We couldn’t … we didn’t want any child to suffer because of our trauma, in a sick attempt to replace him… Maybe we were afraid that it might happen again…” She stopped for a while hugging her husband closer.

“I was with him when they gave him anesthesia. I hugged him when he was falling asleep. I promised him that I would be there when he woke up. I never kept that promise.” She had tears in her eyes.

“He was left alone for five, maybe ten minutes… They locked down the whole hospital but he was gone…” Peter felt their pain, their guilt, their despair, their sadness hitting him like waves hitting the shore. He wanted to tell them to stop worrying because Danny was found… but ‘Danny’ had grown up in a different environment and had become not a lawyer but a criminal.

“Mr and Mrs Brooks, I know that you’ve created an image of your boy…”

The judge interrupted him, “Agent Burke, we are not naïve – we know that whoever took him wasn’t probably the best person on the Earth. I can’t count how many times I woke up in the middle of the night wondering if he was warm and safe. If there was some food for him, if he wasn’t in pain…We’re aware of the odds – pedophiles, sex traffickers, mentally disturbed people… I know – at least rationally – the he is not the same boy that went missing and that probably he is not the man I wanted him to become. But he is still our son. We put a lot of money aside in case he needs medical or psychological care… or wants to go to college… or wants to travel around the world. It’s stupid… but I was afraid that if we stopped he would die…”

“I want to hug him and tell him that everything will be ok… Because his Mum is here… But I still see him as a small child… It doesn’t matter what I want… he’s a young man now… Isn’t he? He’s alive? You found him, didn’t you?” If Peter ever doubted motherly instincts, he stopped at this very moment. Now he realized that by telling her story she was testing him, checking if he was a friend or a foe.

“Mrs Brooks, I did. He’s alive.”

“Oh my God…” She starts crying.

“I don’t care what he is, what he has done…” Her husband added.

“I don’t know how to tell you that… but he’s my CI…He uses the name Neal Caffrey.” Both of the parents exhaled deeply.

“But Caffrey was older… I was the judge in his case…” Michael Brooks stood up then sank back down as if his legs gave out, his face reflecting the horror of his dawning realization– not only had he not recognized his own son, he had locked him away when he had a chance to bring him home, he had caused more suffering, when he should have provided comfort…

“His fingerprints are a match… And Neal has the lion from the set… We don’t know anything about his childhood.”  Peter told them as much as he knew – and how Neal became his CI. 

“I remember his case… I put him in jail. My own son. I told him that he respected neither justice, nor other people, that if he failed to notice the value of freedom, it should be taken away. I sentenced him for six years in a maximum security prison. I could have give him a couple of months, community service, slap on the wrist. But no – I looked at Neal Caffrey and I saw a conman, a threat to society. I didn’t see a lonely, hurt kid. For God sake, I sent a child to prison.” Ann hugged her husband.

“Can we meet him?” She asked gently.

“Well…” Peter started and when he hesitated, Ann interrupted him.

“I waited over 15 years to see my son. To hug him, to apologize him for not keeping him safe. Do you really think that his past would stop me now?”

“No…that’s not what I meant…He’s in the hospital. We found out because he had surgery.” Peter described what happened and soon after his phone started buzzing.

“I’m sorry. It’s my boss. I need to take this. It’ll just take a minute…” He answered Hughes and then June.  When he went back to the Brooks, he didn’t have good news.

“The Department of Justice wants Neal to be transferred back to prison during his recovery. They sent a doctor to examine him. My boss tried to intervene. I think Neal’s too weak to do that.”

“Over my dead body will he be sent back. Will you drive us to the hospital?” Michael Brooks asked and before hearing the answer, he was on the phone. His wife took her purse and they were ready to go.

When Peter saw Judge Brooks go into action to protect his son, he couldn’t find suitable words to describe it. Even metaphor such as a lion savaging his prey seemed too gentle.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't strangle me, please...but....
> 
> This update was super quick for this fic's pace so.... I hope you don't mind if it takes more time for chapter 4 to arrive...
> 
> If you do strangle me, there will be no chapter 4.... so please be patient...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal and his parents...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know... :) But I managed to make it work within a week!  
> My beta Ayam as always helped a lot! Thanks!
> 
> And THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for all kudos:) and all reviews!

Agent Hughes, how did you manage to gather information about Caffrey’s childhood?”

“It wasn’t easy – after your colleagues wanted to transfer Neal to prison, his father made it almost impossible to talk with him, let alone interrogate him. Judge Brooks made himself clear – and his opinion was heavily supported by Neal’s doctor – that any conversation with Neal about his past would happen only when the kid was ready – physically and emotionally. And it could mean days or weeks. Besides, we didn’t believe that Neal would be open and forthcoming about his past – we needed to find out on our own… We are the damn FBI, aren’t we?”

Hughes drew a sharp breath after these words. The bitterness in his voice highlighted what they all knew – that trained adults who were duty-bound to protect failed in their task – and a child, then a young boy, a teenager and a young man, in the person of Neal Caffrey, suffered because of them. And yet, all these traumas hadn’t left a broken man – they had left a brilliant man. With many scars, many issues – but alive and kicking. Hughes, probably for first time in his career, was grateful for white collar crimes – because as they were learning more and more about Neal’s past, they were astonished by the fact that the kid survived and didn’t turn into a violent criminal. As much as Hughes didn’t want to admit it, Neal had a long list of excuses to become one.

“We figured out that Neal faked his birth date – but only by two years. And his kidnapper changed his date of birth for almost two years too. It made Neal four years younger.” Hughes didn’t elaborate on how they had ‘figured it out’ and he didn’t think that it was relevant to mention June’s or Mozzie’s role – and the fact that somewhere in the process of digging out Neal’s past they began to be on the first name terms with each other.

“So we checked all boys born at that day – the day Neal believed his was born. It was a long list. We assumed that Neal attended school somewhere – in order to do so his kidnappers needed, among other things, a date of birth.”

“But you managed to narrow the list down?” The lady from DOJ asked.

“Yes. Neal had a plushy lion with him – with initials DB – we assumed that maybe they hadn’t changed his first name – so we checked all the Daniels. And – thanks to some more information – we hit the jackpot…” The committee didn’t have to know that ‘we’ included people outside the FBI such as Mozzie’s friend Sally.

“So you have found leads in Saint Louis?”

“Yes. ”

“What did you exactly find out?” They all had it in their reports and Hughes didn’t want to go over each detail once again. He shrank his whisky collection because of what they found. And probably he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep at nights wondering why and how…So when he spoke up, his voice was firm and annoyed.

“Where shall I start? With the fact that his so-called parents were abusive? That his so-called dad was a dirty cop and probably murdered the only person that cared about Neal? That his so-called mom was a drunk? That she sold the child to Matthew Keller when Neal was barely fourteen – and I’m referring here to his actual age? That Neal’s teachers didn’t seem to care about his bruises and broken bones? I will tell you what I found out – nobody gave a damn about the kid so don’t pretend you care now.” Hughes abruptly stood and left the room. He needed a break.

Nobody said a word.

*****

During the ride to the hospital, Michael Brooks called someone from the Department of Justice – and from what Peter understood, it was someone from the higher-ups. When rational arguments such as a case needing re-opening, pertinent information, mistakes, injured in the line of duty, didn’t seem to get through, the judge said:

“Damn it, John. You’re telling me that he can wait in prison. He can’t and he won’t. You’re telling me that he doesn’t have any family to make fuss about his situation so we shouldn’t bother. You can’t be more wrong. First of all, because he has a family! A part of that family is with him in the hospital – and the rest is going there… What do I mean? Neal Caffrey is my Danny – he’s my son and if my career has to end in order to save him, I won’t hesitate for a minute. And I know where to strike… But I never suspected that I would have to use this argument. What happened to the young man who wanted to protect justice, not to be a puppet in somebody’s hands?” Peter didn’t hear the response but apparently the judge got what he wanted.

“DOJ will cooperate, how sweet…Damn it. Yeah, I will let them know…No, I’m not going to thank you John – it shouldn’t matter if it’s my son or someone else’s – he was held captive and tortured! He’s barely conscious and you wanted him to recuperate in prison… If I were you, I would start packing my things. And treat it as an old friend’s advice.”

Judge Brooks ended the call and turned to Peter, “Agent Burke, the DOJ backed off and he will be in your custody until they reopen the case. There’s one small problem – the Marshal on the scene isn’t picking up her phone. They have been trying to reach her.”

“Damn it.” Peter immediately called June and for a moment only sharp intakes of breath were heard.

Peter relayed the information to the Brooks. “Neal’s doctor’s opinion wasn’t taken into consideration. They brought a doctor with them and she cleared Neal for the transfer…They tried to stall for as long as possible but they cuffed Neal and they just left his room. We’re five minutes out.”

He was surprised as how well the Brooks took the news. The agent was terrified – he knew that the transfer wouldn’t do Neal any good – and slowing down the kid’s physical recovery wouldn’t even be the worst outcome of this idiotic plan. Neal’s parents weren’t terrified – they were angry and ready to strike. He saw lines of determination on the judge’s face and similar ones on his wife’s. Their son was alive. The rest was a small obstacle they could easily tackle.

Peter used his reckless driving skills and they reached the hospital parking lot in three. Just in time to see a black SUV ready to leave the parking lot.

“Hold on.” The agent blocked the US Marshal’s car praying that Neal had his seatbelt fastened.

“Sir, you’re blocking our way.” The driver said while his partner drew a weapon.

“My name is Agent Peter Burke with the FBI. You don’t have the right to take Mr Caffrey with you.”

“Lower your weapon. I know him.” A lady in her forties told them.

“Listen, I have all the papers in order. So if you don’t want to get into serious trouble, move your car.”

“Are you US Marshal Barbara Price?” Michael Brooks asked her.

“Yes, Sir, it’s me.”

“Why didn’t you pick up your mobile?” He asked her in a firm voice.

“I left it at the office.” She responded not feeling that she did anything wrong.

“You can leave your phone whenever you want after work. But when you’re working you will have your phone with you.” The Marshal was a bit surprised at his tone– but she did her job well and she still didn’t feel that she had done anything wrong.

“Yes, sir. But I don’t believe it is relevant. This case is easy – a CI goes back to prison until he is ready to go back to work. It’s done according to his work release. I know that he was injured but according to Agent Thomson, his injuries were self-inflicted and he blew an undercover operation. And we can’t allow the criminal to take advantage of his freedom if he can’t perform his duties.”

“Self-inflicted? Neal was kidnapped and tortured because Thomson screwed up!” Peter shouted at her. She backed off, more and more surprised.

“Sir, with all due respect, I wouldn’t be taking him in if I had known that he had been wounded in the line of duty – we would pretend not to know about this paragraph in his work release. But I was told the opposite. Moreover, Director Bancroft asked specifically for this transfer to take place as soon as possible. I even brought a doctor recommended by Agent Thomson to have the prisoner cleared for transport…” Peter was ready to strangle Agent Thomson at this point. But with one glance at Neal’s father, he decided to leave this job to him.

“If I were you, I would stop talking right now.” Michael Brooks told her and was back on the phone with the DOJ.

“John, could you explain to your employee that she can’t take Neal Caffrey into her custody.” He gave her his phone. She paled during the conversation.

“I’m sorry sir. But my orders were clear when I left the office.” She said giving him back his phone.

“Take your damn phone with you.” Michael Brooks told her and turned his attention to Peter.

“Agent Burke, as much as we want… we don’t believe that a stranger is what he needs right now.”

Peter nodded, opened the back door and barked at one of the Marshals, “Key. Now.” Then he focused his attention on Neal who was seated in the middle, fastened with a seatbelt and secured with handcuffs, chains across his broken arm, leg irons and God-knew what else. His head was bowed and Peter could see slight tremors running through his body. It took a moment for the kid to register the agent’s presence.

“Hi, see you soon, I hope.” Neal said in small voice.

“No. This is the end of the trip.” Peter sat down next to Neal and tried to uncuff his hands but the kid didn’t let him.

“Maybe it’s better this way… Let them take me… I’m just tired, you know…I tried…” Whatever Neal wanted to say, he stopped himself. Peter was rendered helpless. The light that was always present in the kid’s eyes was gone. The sparkle that was there even when he had been lying in the hospital bed, frightened, cold, uncertain, half asleep, half conscious, was no longer there.

“C’mon, Neal. It’s cold here. Let’s get you inside.” Peter kept cajoling.

“What’s the point? They’ll transfer me…today or tomorrow… It doesn’t matter… I have it in my work release…”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not going back to prison. June’s been worried. C’mon…”

“Am I in trouble?” Neal asked pointing towards Michael Brooks who was talking or probably chastising US Marshals.

“No. You’re not. They are.” The kid barely reacted.

“Why?”

“They weren’t supposed to take you. Let us handle this.” Peter knew that Thomson might have power to shush him or even Hughes. But he definitely didn’t have power to stand one round with Neal’s father.

“But I’m useless if I can’t work… if I can’t help you, I shouldn’t be outside the prison…it was the deal…”

“Neal, I don’t care what the deal says. You were taken and injured in the line of duty. You’re my partner and I won’t let them take you… C’mon…” A small spark that lit up and died when he spotted Michael Brooks – obviously done with the US Marshals – hovering just outside the car.

“What is he doing here? He doesn’t like me. He told me that…” When the judge sensed that his presence was putting his son in distress, he backed off.

“Well, maybe he changed his mind. Neal, let’s get you back to bed.” Peter wasn’t sure what to tell him so he just changed the topic. Neal didn’t.

“He looks different… He lost weight…He looks kind of familiar… I don’t know…” Neal trailed off.

“Yeah, he lost some weight.” Peter just now noticed the fact that Michael Brooks was a lot – maybe 30 or even 40 pounds lighter then when he was during Neal’s case. He noted to himself to check Brooks’ photos from Neal’s childhood. But that could wait – Neal couldn’t.

“C’mon, bony popsicle, let’s get out of the car.” Peter draped his jacket over Neal’s shoulders.

“I….” Neal tried to say something but started coughing.

Peter realized that he needed to act more quickly. He waved to one of the Marshals standing nearby and looking like he wanted to be far away from this situation.

“I need a wheelchair or a gurney. Now.”

“Why?” Neal suddenly asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you need it?” If the situation weren’t so dire, Peter would laugh.

“Neal, listen to me, ok?” He waited for the kid to nod. Neal did it but his eyes were focused on the car’s floor. Peter gently took his face in his hands and made them lock eyes with each other.

“We’re going back to the nice hospital room, to Jenny’s and Dr Cheng’s care, to Miguel’s cooking and June’s hovering. C’mon…” The agent hoped that what he just saw was a small spark of light not a figment of his imagination.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Peter left all the handcuffs and other devices in the car and helped Neal to shift closer to the door talking to him in soft voice. It was beyond Peter’s comprehension how anyone with at least some medical knowledge could let the kid be transferred anywhere away from a hospital bed – the agent doubted that Neal could walk on his own. Of course, the kid’s pride probably gave him enough energy to go through the humiliation of being cuffed and let away as a criminal – but now his body just couldn’t muster any more energy.

“Thank God.” Peter heard behind his back. Dr Cheng with Jenny waited for Neal with a gurney and soft blankets.

“Neal, the cavalry arrived. C’mon… I got you – just one step… Here we go…” Peter put his hand around Neal’s waist and helped him stand just long enough to maneuver and lower him gently to the gurney.

Jenny spread blankets over Neal and tried to engage him in small talk.

“We will check you over inside.” Dr Cheng decided.

Peter and the Brooks followed Neal into hospital. June met them inside and took her place at Neal’s side.

“Let’s get you back on the path to recovery, shall we?” June told Neal.

While Neal was being examined by his doctor, Peter was stopped by Michael Brooks.

“Agent Burke, I will deal with Thomson and Bancroft. But we need a plan to help my son recover. And I want you to understand that I will do everything in my power to protect him – as much as I want to know about his past, I won’t put him through any discomfort.”

“Your Honor, I understand. Let’s wait for the doctor’s opinion.”

Michael Brooks nodded and turned his attention to his wife. Peter observed the Brooks exchange little gestures of love, support, hope. The doctor was done with the medical check-up relatively quickly and spotted the agent.

“Agent Burke, can we have a word in private?”

“Agent Burke, please… we need to know…” Ann Brooks was determined to find out about her son. Peter nodded and introduced the Brooks to Neal’s doctor.

“Dr Cheng, this is Mrs and Mr Brooks. They’re Neal’s parents. You were right – Danny Brooks is Neal Caffrey. We haven’t told him yet. We think it would be best if we took a little time to prepare him for the news.” Dr Cheng smiled sadly and greeted Neal’s parents.

“Mrs and Mr Brooks, I wish we could have met under better circumstances.”

“Could you tell us about our son’s condition?” Ann Brooks asked.

“First of all, I’m really grateful that you managed to stop the transfer. Neal will be ok – he is sleeping right now. He was out of the bed for maybe an hour – his physical condition is only slightly worse than before. You may notice a mask – we put him on oxygen to assist his breathing – but it’s just a precaution. He must have breathed in some cold and polluted air in the garage and his weakened lungs just couldn’t process it. But we hope it’s a minor problem. His mental state took the brunt of the recent events – he is visibly shaken and I would attribute his nausea and hypothermia to the trauma of being sent back to prison, especially in his weakened state. Let’s wait until morning and then decide the best course of action. ”

“What do you mean?” Michael Brooks asked,

“Well, Neal needs to start eating – if he can’t keep food down, that can be a problem. Then, I wanted to start sessions with a physical therapist – he was immobile and we have to start working on stretching his muscles and building up his strength.” Mrs and Mr Brooks nodded.

“Jenny will finish her shift soon. Neal’s night nurse’s name is Meg.” Dr Cheng added.

“Thank you.” Michael Brooks shook the doctor’s hand.

“Agent Burke, do you think we can see him?” Ann Brooks’ asked.

Peter couldn’t deny them that. The agent led Neal’s parents to his room.

Neal was asleep, covered with a warm duvet. His bed was slightly elevated – to help with breathing probably. June was sitting by his side gently stroking his arm.

“June, this is Ann and Michael Brooks – Neal’s biological parents.” June smiled at them.

“My name’s June. I’m Neal’s landlady.” She moved away from the bed giving Neal’s parents space to get a look at their son.

“My baby boy…” Ann Brooks sobbed gently touching Neal’s uninjured arm. Neal’s father didn’t say a word. He just stood there taking in the sight of his son.

“Is he in pain?” He suddenly asked. He was the man of action – doing nothing wasn’t easy.

“No, he isn’t. Dr Cheng won’t let that happen.” June assured him in a soft voice.

“Do you rent him a room?” Ann asked.

“Yes, I do. He’s a great tenant. I love to have him in the house.” June smiled.

“Does he eat properly? He looks so skinny…”

“Don’t worry about it. Miguel will make sure that he gains back the weight he lost during his capture…” June added.

“Miguel? Is he…a boyfriend?” Ann asked, trying to absorb all information about her son. June smiled softly.

“No. He’s my cook and Neal’s friend.”

“Oh… Da… Neal loved pineapples. Fruits in general. For a 3-year old it was quite unusual…I will cook him something…His doctor told us that he needs to start eating.”

“He does and he will. Don’t worry. He will be fine…We – all of us – will make sure of that.”

“Does he have hot water in your place and is it warm there? D… Neal gets chilled easily… I always had an extra warm duvet or a blanket for him. I know that some rentals can be…not too good. I will make up to you, but he needs to be warm…I don’t want him to live in a bad place…I’m sorry but…” Ann was sobbing.

Peter snorted and explained, “Sorry… Mrs Brooks, believe me, he doesn’t have bad living conditions. His appartment has a view of the Chrysler Building…”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to offend you…” Ann Brooks tried to apologize but June smiled softly – she understood – a mom needed to make sure that her young ones were safe and sound. And she was right, for the amount of money Neal got for housing, normally only really crappy places were available – June still remembered the room Neal had lived in before…She stood up and hugged Neal’s mom.

“No offence taken. He saved my granddaughter’s life. A nice place to stay is the least I can offer… I wouldn’t charge him at all but why turn down money from the government…” June said, trying to lighten the mood. Michael Brooks laughed. When he did, they saw Neal in him – the same dimples, huge grin and white teeth. June saw how both – Ann and Michael – were eager to hear about their son.

“He’s a great young man. My granddaughters simply adore him – I adore him – he’s kind, smart with a good heart. When he was missing, I couldn’t stand it… With him my house has a living vibe, I feel 20 years younger! He is a great kid… and highly talented artist as well.”

“So the people who took him, they didn’t break him, did they?” Michael asked. June looked him in the eye.

“They tried – that’s for sure. But no – they didn’t.” June knew that Neal’s parents needed reassurance. Neal didn’t talk about his childhood – but June saw the signs of abuse. The kid was easy-going with people – but he rarely bonded, he rarely developed further relationships, he was rarely able to trust. There were girls – but never anything more than one or two dates. Probably Peter and herself (maybe Miguel and Mozzie too) knew Neal a bit better – but she doubted that they ever reached the deepest levels of his true self. The biggest sign that bad things had happened earlier came with a broken bowl – Neal was helping Miguel preparing a meal talking happily about something, when he moved too quickly and smashed a salad bowl standing too close to the edge. June didn’t see what happened so when she heard the thump she startled and made a sound. Neal was on the floor immediately trying to clean up the glass and muttering apologies. But they weren’t addressed to her – there were addressed to somebody else. Neal was caught up in a flashback – assuring someone back there and then that he was sorry and pleading not to get hit. Miguel had to grab Neal’s hands and hold them because the kid was cutting himself trying to get the glass off the floor. June remembered how shaken she was – when Neal was back in the kitchen breathing normally and deeply embarrassed, he tried to brush the situation off.

Miguel told him, “I don’t know what happened when you were younger but it wasn’t your fault. And we’re here if you ever want to talk.” They never did. Maybe she should have been persistent… maybe she should have dragged him to talk to someone… Maybe…

Suddenly June was back to the present, when Michael asked,

“Do you think he will ever forgi us?”

“Forgive you?”

“I didn’t keep him safe. I didn’t save him…It’s all my fault.” June sighed.

“No. It isn’t. You can’t change the past. But you can redefine it – draw strength, not weakness from it. And you can definitely create a better future for him. He tries to do it on his own – but he can use your help.” Michael nodded.

“But I also have to find out who is the bastard that took my son. And what happened during all these years…”

“Mr Brooks, you and Peter could do that – but are you prepared to find and deal with the skeletons in the closet and monsters of the past lurking in the shadows? Are you sure you want to learn the truth – probably unwelcome and unpleasant? Are you sure the guilt won’t eat you up? I won’t let you enter Neal’s life to hurt him more. If you are about to become a part of his life, you have to be his rock.”

Michael Brooks came closer to his son’ bed and stroke gently his hair before answering.

“Mrs Ellington, I have traveled a long road – with guilt as unwanted baggage. I coped by eating and drinking too much; I looked at criminals too harshly and locked them away for longer than I should’ve – I did that to my son as well – yes, Agent Burke might have caught him but I was the one who sentenced him… Did any of that help? No. The only thing that can help is to open that wound and clean it. It will hurt in the process but I don’t see any other way.”

June nodded and asked, “Where shall we start ?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to be asap but please be patient...:) No cliffie this time...  
> Kudos? Reviews? Ideas?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, June and Neal's parents...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta Ayam helped. A lot! Thank you!
> 
> All mistakes are mine and sorry for them!

Hughes went outside the building to get some fresh air and some time to think. Rationally he know that he shouldn’t feel guilty – neither he, nor any of his agents, did anything wrong, exactly. But… They were all good people, good agents who cared, who didn’t give themselves room for mistakes even if they weren’t avoidable. On top of that, Caffrey had become a part of the team – and one of the unspoken rules said that they did everything to protect their own.

He was sitting on a bench in the nearby park, and soon found himself joined by Kyle Bancroft.

“I see that the meeting has not be going too well…” He started.

“As well as can be expected.” Hughes replied with sarcasm evident in his voice.

The silence between them stretched for a while. Hughes broke it with a sigh,

“I keep telling myself that it’s not our fault. That we had done everything by the book.”

“Yet you feel guilty.”

“As hell.”

Bancroft nodded and started talking.

“Reese, a friend of mine worked as a secret service agent protecting the president. He told me once after he had retired that he could finally breathe. He wasn’t afraid of dying, being injured or disabled. What he was afraid of the most was the fact that he could have done his job flawlessly for years and then one mistake, one misinterpreted signal could lead to tragedy.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Our job sometimes is like looking for a needle in a haystack – a clue hidden somewhere, a witness to come forward. We make a lot of decisions every day, we analyze and interpret data, we draw conclusions and we take risks. If you ask any rookie for his reasons for joining the FBI, you will learn that it’s not because of money or fame – it’s because he wants to do the right thing, bring justice and protect innocents. We all deep down want to be heroes, to save lives. And let’s face the facts: when we had a chance – even if the chance was miniscule, almost not possible to spot and grab – we didn’t become those knights on white horses…”

“Should we start to doubt each decision we make? Each investigation we lead?”

“No. We shouldn’t.”

“So what now?”

“I don’t know… but everyone in law enforcement has at least one case that changed him or her by shaking good people to the core, by forcing them to come back and re-think what could have been done differently…It’s our decision what we can take from that lesson. Do you think that I don’t feel guilty? I do…Reese, I ordered Caffrey to be sent back to prison because an old colleague of mine told me that he screwed up! I came back from the holidays with my family – and I didn’t check the reports, I didn’t think twice… I trusted Thomson and Caffrey paid the price… One wrong decision and I’m as good as any of his abusers…” Hughes understood what Bancroft meant. In Neal’s case it was all about one wrong decision, but each made by a different person, and the problem was that there were too many of them at the end.

“Kyle, I’m at the end of my career – and I can’t overcome my guilt. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched Caffrey’s testimony, went through the evidence. And there is one tiny moment that haunts me – he hesitated for a moment, a very brief one, before giving an answer to the question about partners or crime under duress. And he told us not to worry about it. Then he put on his usual Caffrey conman mask and diverted our attention. So what did we do? We didn’t worry about it – we were so damn happy to capture him and have evidence to put him in jail at least for the bond forgery that we let it go, didn’t think twice. And I wonder if we had pushed him, if we had asked him again…”

“But we’ll never know.”

“No. We won’t. And then the cards and drawings… For almost two years a child was asking the almighty FBI for help. Can you imagine how much courage it took for him, especially with his past? And you’re right – we want to be heroes. But you know where the irony lies? We locked away a kid that actually deserved to be called a hero.”

*****

“I’ll start with finding out why Bancroft let Agent Thomson play him.” Michael Brooks answered.

“And please check the doctor Thomson brought. She never even looked at Neal’s chart – she just saw him awake and cleared him for the transfer…” June didn’t want to add that Neal was too weak to go to the bathroom on his own, yet they made him stand, cuffed him and fortunately used a wheelchair to transport him. She didn’t want to add that if the trip to prison had taken place – between the horrors of the intake and people’s indifference, it would probably have killed him.

“Let’s go over the evidence we have once more. Maybe we missed something…” Peter added. Neal started to stir – they all went silent. June gently brushed Neal’s hair off his face and after some time the kid went still.

“Gentlemen, let’s not forget that Neal’s well-being should be our first and foremost goal. I think that we shouldn’t have this kind of conversation here.” June addressed Peter and Neal’s father. They nodded.

“Moreover, he needs someone with him. Mrs and Mr Brooks, I can’t imagine your pain, and I know you would to stay with Neal, but he doesn’t know you, probably doesn’t even remember you, and he simply can’t take any more stress. I’m sorry but we have to prepare him for the news…”

“I know… just let me know if anything happens…” Ann Brooks told June.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call you as soon as anything changes. Your boy is receiving good care here.”

Ann nodded and June continued, “You, Peter, on the contrary – as much as you want to do something, overcome your guilt by taking actions, you should remember that he needs you here as much as possible.”

They talked for a while about preparing a schedule to keep Neal company and when they were done, Peter asked as if suddenly remembering a detail, ”June, Neal had a bag with him – with a picture of young woman in it.”

“Yes. I remember – he has a small duffel bag. I think it’s still in his apartment.” June didn’t know what was in the bag but she knew it was important – Neal asked about it the first time they talked in the hospital.

“I’d like to have a look at the picture once again.”

“Peter, I’m not sure we should. What about his privacy?”

“June, as much as I don’t want to do it, I don’t believe we have any other starting point… Besides, I had already inspected the contents of the bag when Neal picked it up from the safety deposit box.” She sighed, not being entirely convinced. On the other hand neither of them wanted to do any harm to Neal. Besides, when they were gone, she would make a phone call – the FBI might have resources but she had some too. Mozzie would contact Sally – his geek friend – and they would try to dig into Neal’s past. It wasn’t that June didn’t believe in the capable hands of law enforcement – maybe just a bit – she just doubted that they would be able to access the sources she had. And to administer proper – in her book – justice, if necessary.

“Ok. What about meeting at Neal’s apartment in the morning? Mrs and Mr Brooks can have a look at their son’s place and we will check the bag together. And – as much as I don’t want to reveal it – you should know that Neal forged his date of birth. He told me that he was actually born on September 20, 1992.”

“No, he wasn’t. He was born on August 1, 1994” Ann protested.

“Mrs Brooks, I don’t believe Neal lied to me.” June added.

“Do you think that Neal doesn’t know that he is that young…” Peter asked.

“I believe so. Neal was taken as a young child. It’s highly unlikely that he remembered his exact date of birth. It’s relatively easy to manipulate a child into believing something.” The two Brookses nodded, suddenly terrified with what else their child could have been manipulated into. No amount of talking or researching could prepare them for what they were about to face. Even though they knew about the dangers – deep inside they still had hope that their son would have been spared the bad things of the world, would have been lucky and had been taken by a pair that couldn’t have their own children, that he would have been loved and taken care of. Rationally they understood that it was close to impossible. But emotionally…it was a completely different story.

“So you have your starting point. Neal - or whatever name the kidnappers used – must have attended school somewhere.” Both Judge Brooks and Peter nodded – June had a point. Of course, when Danny was kidnapped, they searched for any boys matching his description. But it was fruitless – children grow, children change. And it never occurred to anyone that somebody might have made the kid older.

June continued, “But all of you need some rest. We won’t help Neal if we are too tired to think. It’s getting late and a lot of things happened today. Go home. I will stay with him for a while, then Miguel will come and keep him company. Dr Cheng told us that he probably wouldn’t wake up for a couple of hours. So let’s meet at 9:00. Peter knows the address and can give you driving directions.” June became the voice of reason. The Brookses reluctantly left the room – after looking at Neal’s sleeping form once more, stroking his hair and re-arranging covers that didn’t need to be re-arranged.

“We love you so much. We will keep your safe. You will get better.” Ann whispered to Neal. Mr. and Mrs Brooks left the room. Peter followed.

The FBI agents that were Neal’s guards had been called off after he was supposed to be transferred to prison.

“Agent Burke, is Neal safe? What about the person who took him during the last case?” Judge Brooks asked.

Peter didn’t want to reveal what June had told him but he didn’t believe that Neal was in danger any longer.

“Your Honor, we didn’t catch the guy…” Michael Brooks’ eyes widened with fear and before Peter could continue, with one phone call, he organized a guard.

“I don’t believe that he is in any danger right now.” Peter added.

“I’m not taking any chances.” The judge replied and the agent didn’t blame him.

“Agent Burke, I know it’s been a long day – but could you please drive us home? I’d like to leave my wife there and then go together to talk with Bancroft. He lives near my house.” Peter was astonished – he didn’t think that his position entitled him to go to the FBI Division Director’s house and to be a witness to his being chastised by Michael Brooks. It was above his pay-grade.

“I’d better call my boss as well.”

“Reese Hughes?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll do it. I want your team on my son’s case.” Michael Brooks called Hughes and it was arranged that they would meet at Bancroft’s house.

When Ann Brooks left the car, her husband couldn’t wait any longer.

“Agent Burke, I see that my son and you have a good relationship – especially for a CI and an agent. But now that my wife is not here, could you tell me the truth… do you think he can change… can go straight…” Peter sensed that there was far more to the question – Michael was asking if Neal was a good guy or a bad guy.

“Your Honor…”

“It’s not official business… Please call me Michael…”

“Peter.”

“So Peter…?” The agent needed a minute.

“When I was pursuing Neal, I always thought that there was something more in his crimes – even those we couldn’t pin on him – something more than a criminal urge. Money? Maybe… Challenge? Definitely… Now I just don’t know anymore – not only because of what I found out today. The more I’ve come to know him, the more I’ve suspected that I didn’t unravel the whole story. You have to know that Neal’s been trying to stay on the right side of the law since he became a CI – maybe even since prison. He’s not violent – he’s never been. He’s smart. But he can con people… and people can con him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He can divert your attention…”

“No… That I get… But how can a conman be conned?”

“He has too good a heart. As simple as that. As June told you, they met because Neal saved her granddaughter. It was reckless, dangerous, but brilliant. But it’s something he does – I’m sure he would push anyone out of harm’s way if he had a chance. Even if he would get hurt in the process. Will he commit another crime? I doubt it – unless it’s to save someone.”

“The crimes he committed – do you think it was to help someone?”

“I’m not sure… Now when I look back at the day when we found him – it was like he just stopped running. It never occurred to me that maybe in fact he let me catch him…When I was chasing him, I truly admired the kid for having been able to avoid the pursuit for so long. And then – I was so happy to finally manage to find him and put him behind bars. Now… Now I’m terrified that I missed something…” The judge smiled sadly.

“Peter, I sent him to prison. He spent over three years there– until in the summer of 2013 he became your CI. Instead of chasing girls, worrying about the prom, graduating from high school, he was locked in a cage full of monsters…Maximum security prison for a first time offender who committed white collar crime… What was I thinking… But guilt won’t help my son.” Peter didn’t know what to say so he let the silence last for a bit until Michael spoke up again, his voice not that strong.

“Do you think he was hurt in prison?”

“I don’t think so. I read his file – he managed to stay out of trouble. I know that he spent some time in the infirmary during one winter – flu or pneumonia, I don’t remember. We can go and check it – we can talk to his CO. But I doubt anything bad happened there…”

Michael Brooks didn’t seem to believe Peter – prison happened. That was bad enough.

When they arrived and parked outside Bancroft’s house, Hughes was already waiting for them. After exchanging greetings, he asked his agent, “Peter, can we have a word?” They stepped aside.

“What’s going on?”

“Jones handed in his resignation.”

“What?”

“He wrote that he didn’t join the FBI to be a witness to injustice. Among other things…”

“It’s about Neal’s kidnapping and the attempt to transfer him back to prison?”

“I believe so.”

“Damn it… now what am I supposed to do…”

“Peter, don’t worry. I told him to go home, have a drink, come back tomorrow and then we’ll have a talk.”

“Thank God, Reese. I don’t what to lose a good agent. Not now…”

“I know.” Hughes might not know the whole story but being asked by a federal judge to come to his boss’s house late in the evening wasn’t a good sign.

Bancroft met them at the door, and letting them in, he went straight to business.

“What’s going on? Not that I don’t appreciate your visit but it’s a bit unusual…”

“Kyle, we won’t take a lot of your time.” Michael Brooks assured.

“I sense that something bad happened…”

“Did you order Neal Caffrey to be transferred from the hospital to prison?” Michael Brooks asked.

“Yes, I did. I won’t let any CI – no matter how good job he’s been doing – to play us.”

“What do you mean? Did you read the case files?” The judge continued fighting very hard not to show the anger bubbling just beneath his usual composed self.

“Michael, I didn’t. I got a visit from Agent Thomson before I left for the holidays. He had mentioned that he wanted to use Caffrey on his case. I had sent him to Hughes to discuss details. When I came back today, we met and he told me that because of Caffrey’s unorthodox actions his well-prepared operation was blown and that the CI faked his injuries to stay out of prison. I did what I would do in any similar situation…It’s been an extremely busy day. I didn’t have to time to think twice…”

“No, Kyle, I’ve known you long enough to know that you would have read the case files, called me or Agent Burke before you made that kind of decision. I believe that Thomson must have said something … I’m not sure if I want to hear it – and I guess it involves something about old Reese getting too soft and Agent Burke getting blinded by his CI. It’s not significant right now. What’s important is the fact that Thomson sold you a lot of lies. So let me give you a new version here – far closer to the truth.” Hughes summed the events from the day Thomson came to the White Collar Crimes Division until the present. Bancroft was ready to explode. He realized that it was his fault – that Thomson played him. There was no paper trail – it was just a conversation between two buddies. If Caffrey wanted to sue, the FBI would lose and Bancroft probably would have to face early retirement – because it was his, not Thomson’s decision.

“Where is Caffrey now?”

“In the hospital. Asleep. A bit worse for wear – they put him on oxygen.” Brooks told him.

“I’ll deal with Thomson in the morning. Do you think that Caffrey will sue?”

“Neal is not like that… He won’t use what happened against anybody…” Peter assured. Brooks was relieved – he didn’t think that Bancroft deserved to be punished for another agent being a jerk.

But Thomson was just the tip of the iceberg. Sensing that there was more to he story, Bancroft continued, “But that isn’t all……….”

“It’s not. You better sit down.” Brooks told him.

“You know that my son was abducted in April of 1998. He was never found. Until today.”

“Oh my God… Is he alive?”

“Yes, luckily, he is.”

“Isn’t anything I can do for you or Ann?”

“Actually, there is. I want Agent Burke’s team on his case.”

“Michael, I don’t understand…I know that Burke leads great people but his area of expertise is a bit different. We have an excellent team in missing persons… but if he was found, why do you need a team?” Reese asked.

“Kyle, Reese, you know him.” The judge told them.

“What?” They said in unison.

“My Danny is Neal Caffrey.”

“It’s not possible…” Reese exhaled.

“It is.” Michael Brooks explained what he found out about Neal and his fake birthday.

“Reese, if it’s ok with you, I can clear Burke’s people and let them work on this case.”

“Not a problem. Peter what do you think?”

“I think that we have a tough task. But let’s find the truth.” They talked for a while and then Peter drove Brookses back home and headed back to Brooklyn. His wife was still awake, busy with her own catering business.

“Hi hon.”

“Hi hon.”

“How is Neal?” She asked. When they talked earlier, Peter had asked El not to come to the hospital. He was afraid that it would be too much for her and he wanted to clear it with June. Then he simply forgot about it.

“Could be better.”

“That bad?” Peter nodded and explained as much as he could while El was heating his dinner. She opened a beer for him.

“There is something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

“You’re a smart woman…”

“I am Peter, I am… I know that sometimes you can’t tell me something but I can see the guilt has grown even bigger than when Neal went missing.”

“El… I can’t…”

“I know…but you know I’m here for you. If there’s something I can do for you, I’ll do it.”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Only one?” The casual conversation with his wife helped ease the tension he felt.

The night was as peaceful as possible – Peter spent it with El and Satchmo, June with Mozzie and Sally looking for information about Neal, Neal with Miguel sleeping and managing to nibble on some food when he woke up past midnight, Ann and Michael Brooks together in Danny’s old room.

“Our son is alive.”

“He is.”

“Is it a problem for you that he did what he did…” Ann asked.

“No… I just… I just don’t know if I can do what I’ve been doing – now I don’t care about justice. I want revenge on those who took him, who made his life miserable…But it’s not a problem – I can quit. I‘ll ask for a leave of absence tomorrow. He’s the most important right now.”

“I want to hug him and never let him go.” Ann said, then asked her husband, “Do you think that we will be whole again?”

“We will be… But not right away.”

The morning came too soon for everyone. But it came.

As promised, Bancroft asked Thomson to come to his office. He didn’t yell – he was afraid that the office in New Jersey might hear it – he would be that loud. Instead, he decided to play along. OPR was on Thomson’s case – Bancroft had a close friend there. A friend that didn’t like abuse of authority and conning people. It was enough to give Thomson a suspension for a thorough OPR investigation.

“We have to wait for Caffrey to make a statement. He is too weak to do it right now. If I were you, I would prepare myself for weeks of waiting. And expect to be demoted or fired.” Bancroft started.

“And I talked with the doctor you brought to the hospital – you should have chosen someone with guts. In order to save her license, she is willing to testify that you lied to her and that you showed her false documents about Caffrey’s health.” Thomson didn’t see that coming. Of course, he tried to fight it – but his so-called friends in high places had made themselves clear that they wouldn’t start a war with Judge Brooks.

“Sorry. You’re on your own. I’m not going to risk anything.” One of them told him.

And Thomson had a very bad day – apart from being suspended, someone slashed the tires and smashed the windshield in his car. Nobody had seen a thing and the CCTV was down for some maintenance work.

When Peter told the news to Brooks while they met at June’s, the judge looked suspiciously at his wife. She just smiled back – with a Neal-like smile sayng _Yes, I did it. But you have no proof_.

“It’s dangerous world out there. Maybe he pissed off a woman. It looks like a crime of passion.”

Peter was sure that Neal got far more from his mom than lovely brown curls.

June was already awaiting them. Mozzie had just left telling them as a farewell that he didn’t like suit conventions and that as much as he didn’t like germs and hospitals he was going to visit Neal.

“Your home is quite beautiful. I’m sorry once again about the comment…” Ann told June sitting down on Neal’s bed and hugging his pyjamas.

“Don’t you worry, darling.” Then Neal’s mom had a look at the paintings.

“He’s talented.”

“Highly. Do you draw?”

“Yes, I do. But I’m not as good as he is.” June knew that Ann has been working as a freelancer – commercials, illustrations and so on. She was good at it. She used to work for a publisher illustrating children’s books. After her son was taken she gave up that job.

After some more small talk, June showed them the bag.

When she handed them the picture, she explained.

“Her name is Kate Moreau.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos? Reviews? Ideas?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A part of the mistery...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all kudos and reviews!
> 
> Beta - as always - my lovely Ayam. Thank you!!!
> 
> Please keep in mind that it is fanfiction, ok? First part takes place weeks after the second... :)

**JUNE 28, 2015**

“Don’t you think you should go back?” Bancroft asked Hughes.

“I don’t particularly want to.” They sat in silence for a while.

“It’s all nonsense – who are we helping? Caffrey doesn’t need any help right now – he needed it years back.” Hughes started suddenly.

“Maybe we’ve just been trying to deal with the guilt. Our guilt.”

“Kyle, if that’s the case, it’s not working.”

“I know, I know…” After some time Bancroft asked,

“How is Neal doing by the way?” Hughes knew because he made it part of his weekly routine to check on Neal with Peter and the Brookses after the kid was discharged from the hospital. It was hard for the agent to verbalize his reasons – his wife had told him once that probably he wanted to make sure that nobody would miss anything this time, that everybody was doing their job. Hughes knew that it was ridiculous – but he truly didn’t care what other people were thinking. He wasn't there when Neal had found out about his parents - so he could only imagine how difficult it had been for him and the Brookses. It was almost a month ago but still the situation seemed to be so surreal.

“Good. His parents are planning two weeks in late summer traveling around France and Belgium for his 21st birthday – Neal will have surgery to remove the pin sometime next week and then they want him to go through physical therapy before they leave for Europe. Michael told me that he is not sure how he is going to survive all the museums but Ann and Neal are happy about it.”

“So they are getting along?”

“They are trying. It’s been couple weeks since they life was turned upside down… It’s still not enough time…” Hughes smiled – it was not easy for Neal, nor for Ann or Michael – but they were trying – all of them – to give themselves a second chance. And to give themselves the chance to become a family again.

*****

**SECOND WEEK OF MAY, 2015**

“Kate Moreau?”

“Yes. My sources found some information.” June didn’t want to reveal how she managed to gather so much information but she decided with Mozzie that – as much as they didn’t want it – they might let the FBI in. Because – as much as they wanted – justice – in any form – couldn’t be served if people were dead or hard to find.

“The only good that can come out of it is closure for Neal’s parents. It might help them with their guilt.” June told Sally and Mozzie during the long night hours of investigating Neal’s childhood.

With a date of birth and the assumption that the kidnappers didn’t change the name of the child, then with the use of the picture – it was fairly easy to unravel at least part of the mystery.

June continued, “She died about a week before Peter caught Neal. She was 18 years old. Her mom had died of cancer when she was 15. Nothing about her father. After that she had been brought up by an uncle – Vincent Adler. Adler had also a sister – her name was Vivien. She was living in New York when she married a cop – James Bennett – and then in the summer of 1998 they moved to St Louis. They had a son – Daniel Bennett, born on September 20, 1992.” There was a silence for a moment.

“Are you telling me that my son was taken by a cop?” Judge Brooks asked.

“The day your son was taken Bennett’s partner was shot in the line of duty. I can only imagine that he might have used that opportunity – maybe he was visiting his partner… I don’t know… but Bennett had asked for a transfer to St Louis months before the kidnapping took place,” June elaborated.

“They had planned it months ahead…” Ann said.

“They had.”

“Where they can be found?” Michael asked.

“Bennett was arrested and prosecuted for the murder of Ellen Parker in the summer of 2007. He was found guilty – but died of heart attack five months ago.”

“What about Vivien?” Michael continued.

“The last known location is in St Louis. But it’s hard to tell if she is alive or dead – there’s no paper trail for at least some time.” It might not be the whole truth – Vivien was alive as far as June knew – there was some data that she sought medical attention two months ago. She didn’t have a permanent address – she seemed to be on and off the streets for a while.

“And the guy – Adler?”

“He died along with Kate. He was a con man among other things – but they couldn’t catch him in the act – so he was just suspected of many crimes. He did some time in one of the prisons in the South– some kind of forgery. Adler and Kate died together in a car accident – a highly suspect one. There were some suspicions someone else was involved but nothing was proven,” June continued. The suspicions centered around one person – Mathew Keller. And after Neal was arrested, Keller disappeared. Sally had promised to look for him – but she needed more time than one night.

“But why did they wait so long – until summer – before moving out from New York?” Ann asked.

“I’m not an expert but probably they waited until the publicity about kidnapping died down.”Peter answered.

“And a young child would have got used to new caregivers by the time they left.” June provided.

“They must have told so many lies to my son…” Ann started. Michael hugged his wife.

“My source has been working on gathering more information. That’s all I know.” June told them.

“June, thanks. I’ll send Diana and Jones to St Louis. As much as I want to go…”

“Don’t you dare, Peter. Miguel told me that Neal’s been asking about you.” Peter just nodded.

“I’ve got to go to the office – only for a short time – and then I’ll go stay with Neal,” the agent assured.

“Agent Burke, if you need anything, please let me know. Your team will get all the assistance needed – warrants, anything.” Judge Brooks said to Peter. Neal’s father was highly respected so nobody would deny him a favor or two. People knew about his son – news like that was passed on and gossiped over even if he didn’t talk about it – and probably his co-workers were aware of the pain and grief.

When Peter readied himself to leave, Ann took Neal’s bag and carefully started to look at his things. Her husband might be worried about people who took his son – and she was sure he would take care of them. She had her own ways – but they weren’t important right now. Right now she just wanted to get to know him, to be there with him, to show him the world, to find out about his dreams and to make them come true. Deep in her thoughts and possible scenarios, she found it on the bottom of the bag. A small plushy animal. The missing piece of the set. The favorite. There it was. The lion.

“You didn’t keep him safe. But maybe at least you provided some comfort. I would love to take you home to the other animals. And maybe you would have your family with you from now on. But you’re not mine…” June overheard the whispered words and she was sure that Ann didn’t refer only to the lion. But as simple as it was with a plushy, with people and their scars it would be far more complicated.

Then Neal’s mom picked up one of the sketchbooks and found a colorful picture of a small wooden house surrounded by many flowers.

“Mike, look…Oh my God… He must have remembered…”

The Brookses owned a small summer house a few hours from New York. They used to spend all their summers there. They haven’t done it for years. Other family members took care of the property – but they couldn’t go there. Too many memories. Danny’s first birthday, his first steps, his second birthday, his fits of laughter, him playing in the water, his third and last birthday together…

“It’s a bit different… but close enough.” Michael smiled sadly. He wondered if his son associated this house with happiness and safety, if he remembered that sometime somewhere he had been loved and taken care of.

“We will take him there. We will help him remember…We will fix it…” The judge added.

“Let’s get back home. I’ll cook him something – maybe a soup he liked so much when he was young. I’ve already left for him some food in the hospital.”

“When did you do it?” Her husband asked surprised.

“I couldn’t sleep very well.” Ann smiled.

All of them said goodbyes to June and left.

Peter drove to the office. Jones was waiting for him – in some casual clothes. He was obviously hung over.

“Peter, I came in because Hughes asked. I handed in my badge and gun yesterday. And I’m not interested in coming back.”

“Clinton, I can’t lose you right now. If you care about justice and about Neal, please stay…”

“Why Peter? Neal’s been trying so hard to do the right thing – and yeah, what have we done? Let him be taken by another agent and then after almost two weeks with God knows what horrors, we sent him back to prison! I can’t…” He was angry but he didn’t let his emotions to take control of him. He stopped for a moment and started over with newly found strength and calmness.

“For the last two nights I barely slept. I have nightmares about the basement we found him in – about him lying unconscious on the floor. I’ve never experienced something like that…I witnessed some of my buddies dying in the line of duty – but it was their choice to be there, their sacrifice. Nobody made them do it. And I – even with the war’s experience… I…I couldn’t… Do you know that I froze – that some SWAT officer checked his pulse. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t…” Jones took a deep breath.

“I didn’t join the FBI to be a witness, no – an active participant – of injustice. Neal did what he did. But we shouldn’t forget that he is still a human being!” His calmness probably wouldn’t last long. Peter took the opportunity to explain what had happened.

“Clinton, we stopped the transfer. And you’re right. We should have done more to protect Neal from agents like Thomson. But Neal is alive and he needs us more than anything else right now.”

“What’s going on? I spoke with Diana and she told me that Neal was stable. I wanted to visit but I.. I just couldn’t… and then the transfer…”

“It’s not about his medical condition. He has very good care and he is expected to make a full recovery. But we discovered something about his past…” Peter explained what they had found. Jones was undecided. When Peter asked him to go to St Louis, he wasn’t convinced.

“I don’t know if I can do it…”

“It’s your decision. But we need to solve the puzzle – if we want to give Neal a better future.”

After a while Jones nodded and answered. “Ok. Let’s do it. But I can’t promise that I will stay with the Bureau after this.”

“Fair enough.”

Peter briefed Diana and Jones before sending them to St Louis. Bancroft was with Hughes and neither of them looked like they had caught much sleep the night before.

“Anything new?” Hughes asked Peter.

“Yes.” Peter explained what they had found out and what they were planning on doing next. Hughes promised any assistance needed. Peter nodded and after dealing with some more paperwork, left the office.

The agent drove to the hospital, parked and went straight to Neal’s room. Security was tight and he was asked to show his badge.

“Sorry sir, but Judge Brooks told us not to make any exceptions,” A bulky officer explained.

“I understand.” Peter smiled and entered Neal’s room.

The kid was sitting in the bed propped on the pillows and drinking something through a thick straw. He was still pale and the bruises on his face had new vivid hues. He apparently had been awake for some time. Peter was a bit worried when he saw the nasal cannula but at least Neal was awake and lucid.

When Neal finished the drink, he looked almost mournfully at the empty glass.

“It was soo good.”

“Do I want to know what it was?” Peter asked entering the room.

“Pineapple smoothie. Second today.” Miguel smiled, explaining. Peter was sure that the recipe belonged to Neal’s mom.

“There’s more pineapple smoothie in the fridge at the nurse’s station. But he promised to eat some soup next time so…” Miguel didn’t need to finish but Neal just made a face.

“I will make sure he eats.” Peter said. Miguel nodded and left Neal in the agent’s care.

“How was work?” The kid asked, sensing something off about Peter.

“Boring. The floor is too quiet without one annoying CI.”

“Do you miss me?” Neal flashed his widest grin.

“Maybe a bit.”

They talked for a while but soon Neal was yawning more and more.

“Shut eye time.” Peter announced.

“Are you going back to the office?”

“No. You’re stuck with me.”

“Ok.” Neal smiled, grabbed and hugged Diana’s pillow.

“It’s good for the ribs.”

“No doubt.” Peter tucked the duvet around him and Neal was asleep in seconds.

Jenny came to check on her patient in a while.

When she was asked how Neal had been doing, she sighed and started to explain, “He’s too stubborn for his own good. We had to put him back on oxygen after his trip to the bathroom – even with Miguel’s assistance it took a toll on him. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. And he’s been pushing himself too much! His physical therapist told us that he was conned – his words not mine – into doing more repetitions! It’s not something he should be doing – he should take it slow!”

Peter laughed. Jenny looked at him in disbelief.

“I’m sorry… but it’s Neal – he would rather die trying to go the bathroom then used a bedpan. And yes, he’ll be conning people into letting him do things on his own. I bet you heard too many times that he’s fine, not in pain and not hungry.”

“Add to it questions about discharge…”

“Yeah, that too…I know it’s hard – and I’ll do everything in my power to stop him if necessary – but I would be more worried if he was pliant, cooperative and not brushing off what had happened.”

“Agent Burke, you realize that he’s putting on a mask – that he’s not fine?.”

“I do. But at least he has the strength left to do it…”

“But he can’t keep doing that…”

“I know… but let’s follow him, interrupting if necessary…” Peter smiled. Jenny sighed, checked her patient and left.

Neal woke up some time later and after some casual conversation, he asked Peter, “What’s going on? Because I know you and I know that something is off. Am I going back to prison? Am I facing charges? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. You’re not going back. Nothing to charge you with.”

“Why are there are guards outside my room? Is it because I’m off anklet?”

“No. It’s because Paul Morris – the guy who took you –is still unaccounted for. And yes – you’re right. Something is off – my CI was kidnapped and I didn’t prevent it. He was tortured, starved and almost taken back to the prison. The whole situation is off! Because it shouldn’t have happened!” Peter wasn’t sure if conning the conman was the right thing to do, but said conman was a bit off his game.

“So you were worried?” Neal asked in such a child-like manner that Peter almost heard the second part – _because nobody cared and nobody was worried._

“Of course I was.”

Then he added with a wink, “It’s a lot of paperwork if your CI dies in the line of duty.”

Neal laughed.

“I bet it is. But it’s a strange feeling…”

Neal didn’t say, Peter didn’t ask. He just squeezed the kid’s hand.

“Get used to the fact that people do care. And do worry. And do feed you some soup.” Neal groaned and smiled. Maybe he could get used to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still we me? 
> 
> Kudos? Ideas? Reviews?
> 
> I promise to be back as soon as possible but RL...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal's time in prison...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for kudos and reviews and so sorry if I made you believe that Neal met his parents - we still didn't reach that point...
> 
> My lovely Ayam help a lot! Thank you!
> 
> Kudos? Ideas? Reviews?
> 
> And it's fanfiction...ok... I hope I won't offend anyone...

Hughes reluctantly left the bench, said goodbye to Bancroft and went back to the building where the meeting had been taking place. The lady from the DOJ was in the corridor apparently waiting for him to come back.

“Agent Hughes, I know it’s been hard but let’s get it over with. Maybe we will find some peace afterwards.”

Hughes wasn’t convinced.

“Peace? I doubt I’ll ever find peace – and keep in mind that we have a happy ending. Sort of. Despite the odds. But if you – or any of your people – find peace with all those silly questions and dramatics, it’s perfectly fine with me. Remember – the FBI was the last part of the chain. Not the first one.”

The lady just nodded and they went back to the room.

“Let’s resume the meeting. It’s June 28 of 2015, 2:15 pm. Agent Hughes, we have some questions, can we start?”

“Yes.” Somebody from the further corner of the room added.

“Could you explain the mix-up with Mr Caffrey’s or – Daniel Brooks’ dates of birth. There are three of them…”

“Yes. Daniel Brooks was born on August 1, 1994. When he was kidnapped, James Bennett and Vivien Adler-Bennett changed the date to September 20, 1992. Then when Caffrey started… let’s say working – for lack of a better word – with Keller, he himself changed the date to January 16, 1990.”

The person just nodded and continued, “The kidnappers didn’t have any other children from what we know. So how come a childless couple didn’t raise suspicions when they appeared suddenly with a child…Besides, they took a boy who was couple months short of his fourth birthday. How did they manage to pass him off as almost a 6-year old?”

Hughes chuckled bitterly. It was one of the discoveries that shook him to the core. One of many. Too many.

“They weren’t a childless couple. They had a son – Daniel Paul Bennett who was born on September 20, 1992. He died at the age of five in October of 1997 – but nobody – besides the couple – knew about his death. There was some kind of a mix-up with the death certificate – and officially the kid wasn’t dead. Young Daniel had been sick – he was diagnosed with cancer but he didn’t respond to treatment – so the Bennetts had been looking for help in various hospitals since he was two. He was rarely home – neighbors didn’t even know what he looked like. Bennett had an aunt – quite a wealthy one. She knew that her nephew had some issues – like gambling or drinking problems. So she made his son– her great nephew – the only heir. She hoped that maybe it would help Bennett to overcome his problems. Unfortunately, it didn’t.”

“But why did they wait almost six months…”

“Actually, they didn’t – they tried to kidnap a child earlier but never succeeded. We found reports of people matching the Bennetts’ description trying to abduct a child at a park and also in a store – but the attempts failed because the children alerted their caregivers – and nobody connected the cases. We assume that they took Danny Brooks because of an opportunity – while Bennett visited his partner he didn’t rise suspicion dressed in him uniform and Danny didn’t have a chance to make a fuss. And they needed a child sooner rather than later – the aunt was terminally ill and she demanded to meet her heir for the last time.”

“And they didn’t have to change the first name…”

“As I told you before, we thought that they didn’t change the first name so the child could adapt more easily – thanks to that assumption we found the kidnappers. But we were wrong – it was a pure coincidence that the children had the same name. And identical initials.”

“Agent Hughes, I still don’t understand how come nobody noticed – of all people – that the kidnapped child was younger… that Neal Caffrey was too young to go to the prison…”

“In fact someone did notice. But who would take the word of a murderer seriously?” Hughes replied.

*****

Neal ate some soup, then convinced Peter to help him to the bathroom. Jenny didn’t approve but the duo managed not to get into trouble. Good luck didn’t last very long though – Neal started to cough and wheeze more and more in the next hour. His doctor was called immediately to check him over even though Neal protested weakly that he was fine.

“Neal, have you ever had problems with your lungs?” Dr Cheng asked, listening to the kid’s breathing sounds. Peter sensed the concern in his voice.

“I don’t know. I got pneumonia once.”

“When?”

“A couple years ago. I was in prison at the time.” Dr Cheng nodded, ordered something to be injected into Neal’s IV and put him back on an oxygen mask.

“Ok. Rest. Try not to talk too much.” Neal wanted to reply that he was just politely answering questions but a coughing fit left him unable to do that.

“Breathe in and out. Slow, deep breaths.” Jenny instructed Neal’s breathing came back to some semblance of normalcy.

Dr Cheng ordered some X-rays and when they were done he announced, “Neal, we need to remove fluid from your lungs.”

“No. H’rt. Always h’rt. ” Neal told them looking at Peter for reassurance that it didn’t have to be done. The agent was not sure that not doing it was exactly possible.

“Dr Cheng will make sure that it doesn’t hurt.” The agent tried to sound convincing.

Dr Cheng nodded and replied, “Neal, it can be a strange feeling – but it won’t hurt. I will numb the area – so you will feel a pinch of a needle and that’s it. If you feel anything worse, let me know, ok?” The kid wasn’t sure about the procedure being pain-free but he reluctantly let Peter and Jenny help him sit at the edge of the bed, his legs hanging freely. He tried to look around to see what the doctor was doing behind his back but he couldn’t. Peter tried to make him look at him and listen to some reassuring nonsense but Neal was too stressed to pay much attention.

After some time he removed his mask and asked, “Can we hurry up?”

“It’s all done, Neal.” Jenny replied smiling.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Peter eased the kid down on the bed.

“It didn’t hurt, did it?” Dr Cheng asked. Neal shook his head, surprised. People not lying to him was still something new to him. The kid didn’t have to know that his doctor had slightly increased the general pain medication and with local anesthesia the procedure was as comfortable as possible.

“It should be easier to breathe now.” Dr Cheng assured him and soon he and Jenny left the room. Peter covered a shivering Neal with a blanket placed atop his warm duvet.

“Warm enough?” The kid nodded and after some time he was asleep. Soon Dr Cheng re-entered Neal’s room to check his vitals and talk to Peter.

“Agent Burke, I don’t know who took care of Neal last time but the procedure shouldn’t be painful – at least not enough to cause such a reaction. I would like to have access to his medical files from the time when he had pneumonia. I got only general information about Neal’s lack of allergies, medical conditions and general good health. Do you think it’s possible?”

“I can try to find out.” Peter knew that for him it might be a problem. For Michael Brooks it wouldn’t be.

“Is it serious? His breathing problems?” The agent asked, concerned.

“We will cope with them, don’t worry. Neal will be sleeping for hours probably.” After the doctor left, Peter called Judge Brooks and explained the situation.

“I was thinking about visiting my son’s cellmate anyway. When can we meet?”

Peter wanted to protest that it might be too late for the visit, but the lateness of the hour didn’t seem to be a problem for Brooks. June was due to come in an hour, so the agent would be taking a trip to Sing Sing.

“Peter, everything is arranged.” Brooks told the agent, picking him up from the hospital as soon as June arrived. During the ride they talked about the day, Neal’s health and the general situation. “I spoke with the DOJ. They will re-open Neal’s case – they’re quite scared and ready to offer a deal but I don’t want to rush things. I want to know why my son did what he did and why he didn’t receive any help. He must have dropped out of school when he was just 14. Where was everybody?”

“Michael, I want you to know that we – I mean the FBI – may have missed something… But I swear to you – I didn’t think that something was off back then!”

“Peter, believe me – I know. I’ve re-read his files more than once. I see nothing there…” Judge Brooks knew something about feeling guilty.

When they arrived at the prison, Warden Philips welcomed them at the entrance.

“It’s a strange time for a visit. Especially from such a noble committee…” He started with a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“Warden, we believe that you hosted a teenager in your facility some time ago. A child that was caught by Agent Burke and sentenced by me. A child that appeared to be underage at the time.”

“So it’s true? Neal Caffrey was conning us about his age…”

“You knew about it?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure – he didn’t tell but his cellmate suspected something and shared his suspicions with me.”

“And what did you do?” Judge Brooks asked.

“I asked him – he told me that it didn’t matter… I dropped the case… What was I supposed to do? I have enough on my plate…”

“You should have done something…”

“Your Honor, like what? Call you and tell you that I might have a criminal a bit too young? C’mon… It’s not like he said anything…”

“We believe that he was abused as a child by his caregivers and he didn’t trust people.” Peter provided.

The Warden chuckled.

“Agent Burke, most of the prisoners here had rough childhoods and have some issues…” The warden didn’t have a chance to finish.

“Let me ask you something – how many of them were kidnapped as children from loving families and had their lives turned upside down because of some monsters! How many? ” Judge Brooks asked in a calm, terrifyingly calm voice.

“What?”

“We’re still gathering evidence but we believe that the crimes Caffrey committed were under duress. And as a minor.”

“And now we want access to his files. Call his COs and the doctor – we want to talk with them. We will start with Brian Cross,” Judge Brooks demanded. The warden looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t dare.

Peter and Neal’s dad were led to a small visiting room . Brian Cross – a man who looked liked a loving grandpa not a serial killer – was waiting for them.

“We would like to talk about your cellmate…”

Before Peter managed to give him the name, the agent was interrupted, “Neal Caffrey? I hope the kid is ok. Because he – of all people – didn’t deserve to be here. I guess that you came here because somebody connected the dots and saw that he was too young to be here. About time.”

“Excuse me?” The agent asked surprised.

“Look. Neal might be a conman. A good one. But even he didn’t manage to convince me that he wasn’t a minor. In fact, when he came here I doubted he was even 17.”

“Have you ever talked about his age with him?” Judge Brooks asked.

“I told him that I knew. And that I could help him. He never admitted to being younger… but I know a scared abused child when I see one.”

“How do you know that?” Brooks continued.

“You know why I’m here, don’t you?” The judge nodded – it was quite a famous case at the time.

“ I executed pedophiles and abusers – those who couldn’t be convicted due to lack of evidence, evidence that was not admissible and other excuses. Sometimes I visited the victims in their houses – when devastated parents were trying to do whatever they could to make things better. Sometimes I met victims years after the abuse took place. At different places. But still afraid – all of them – that it would happen again. I gave them closure. And hope that it wouldn’t happen again. I would still be doing that but unfortunately I was caught. So I recognized the signs of abuse.”

“What kind of signs?” Peter suspected that if Brooks decided to play poker, his emotionless voice and detached gaze would make him a sure winner. The agent suspected that inside, the judge – as a father – was deeply distressed.

“Inability to trust, indifference to pain or hunger, difficulties with expressing needs and asking for help.”

“Did he ever talk about his childhood?”Peter asked this time.

“Admitting that his parents or whoever brought him up weren’t the caregivers of the year? He didn’t have too. Nobody visited him. Nobody sent him anything. Maybe a letter or two…”

“But it happens with some prisoners…”

“Yeah. But ‘some prisoners’ didn’t almost die of pneumonia because they didn’t know how to ask for help!” Cross almost yelled.

“What happened?” Judge Brooks asked.

“It was his first winter. A few months into his sentence. He wasn’t in very good shape – he barely ate, had trouble sleeping. And it wasn’t because of prison – I assure you. So of course he caught some bug. I was in solitary for a week for something I don’t even remember now – and when I was back he wasn’t breathing – he was wheezing and his lips had a bluish tinge. Neal didn’t tell anybody –and the CO didn’t notice that he was that sick. You have to know that the COs here are mostly good guys. Ferguson – the one who had shifts during that week – was truly upset at not seeing that something was off with the kid. I think that he was even officially reprimanded. Neal took it upon himself to explain that it wasn’t the CO’s fault. But the kid spent two weeks in the infirmary. The doc there made sure that Neal got better – I told him about my suspicions and he tried to make Neal talk about his age and his past – to no avail. Anyway, when the kid was finally back – still a bit short of breath and a lot too light - he told me that he had been used to taking care of himself and that it had been nothing he couldn’t have dealt with.” Cross’ voice wasn’t all that calm. In his world, judged by his own rules , he was a protector of the innocent. It was what he was supposed to do. And it made him angry that he couldn’t.

“How did you react?” Peter asked,

“I was pissed. I told him that he shouldn’t have gotten used to fending for himself. But he didn’t let anyone help him.”

Cross sighed. “He told me that it was too late: that he asked for help and nobody cared.”

“Do you know what he meant by that?”

“Look, I bet nobody cared at school or at home. So he was used to people’s indifference. I don’t know why he bothered trying again – but he did and he was failed again. I know that Neal had sent a plea to somebody who was chasing him. A plea for help – and that somebody didn’t help…” Peter paled – because that somebody was he.

“He didn’t… oh my God… he sent postcards and drawings… I’ll examine them but I didn’t notice…” Peter started. Cross nodded. He remembered the day when Neal got presents from Burke’s wife – and there were these small moments that reinforced his belief that the kid was a lost, lonely child, not a criminal. He remembered Neal being happy and talking and sharing cookies and cherishing his presents.

Cross took a deep breath, “You have to understand – Neal is a good kid but he has some issues. I’m glad he was offered the work release – because prison is no place for him.”

“Was Neal…Did anything bad happen?” Brooks poker face didn’t match his finally trembling voice.

“He wasn’t raped or assaulted. I’m not a hypocrite – I made sure he was as safe as possible here. But it’s still prison – it’s not a place for a kid. He could draw so he made some friends thanks to his talent. He could have had more if he had used his other – less legal --capacities as well, but he didn’t want to.” The kid had made it crystal clear that he wanted to stay off the illegal path. Cross respected that.

When Cross realized that Neal didn’t have anyone, he made sure that there was enough goodies for him– he got presents and packages from all over the country. The system recognized him as a serial killer – parents and victims treated him as a hero. He could easily ask for some things and they were delivered. But It took him a lot of time to convince Neal that he didn’t want anything in return. But still… small things…Neal always made sure that things could last – chocolates, cookies, sketchpads, clothes. Once Cross got a package with products picked up apparently by one of the youngest whose abuser he took care of. It was full of things children like jelly beans, tootsie rolls, milk duds and things like that.

“Oh, I had these once! And what’s this?” These were Neal’s comments when Cross shared the sweets with him. At least they talked – not about Neal’s past or his crimes but they talked.

Back from his memories, Cross asked, “Is Neal ok? You didn’t tell me much…”

“He’ll be ok. He’s in good hands.” Peter answered. Cross knew that something wasn’t ok – because he hadn’t heard from Neal in a while. When Neal was released he sent him a few packages and contacted him at least once a month.

“One more thing – he gets chilled easily. Make sure he’s warm.”

Peter smiled and replied, “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure he is.”

Peter and Brooks left the room and were met by tall bulky CO.

“I’m Matt Ferguson. I heard you wanted to talk with me about Neal Caffrey. I hope he’s ok because I owe him. He saved my life.”

Peter looked surprised. He was sure that this detail wasn’t in Neal’s files.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal and his time in prison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for kudos and reviews! 
> 
> My beta ayam. Helped. A lot! Thank you!
> 
> All mistakes - as always - are mine.

“How come some details about Caffrey’s stay in prison aren’t in his files?” Somebody asked Hughes.

“It’s the well-known universal CYA policy – cover your ass. When people in charge don’t want to look bad, information is mysteriously absent from reports.”

*****

“He saved your life?” Peter asked once again.

“Yeah. He did. Caffrey’s a good kid – I have no idea who he pissed off to get that kind of sentence… Is he ok?” There was some kind of genuine concern in his voice.

“He will be. How come him saving a guard is not in his files?” Peter asked.

“Look. I owe him for the rest of my life. But don’t expect official commendation- it’s prison…” Brooks raised his eyebrows in suspicion.

“Tell us what happened…” The judge wanted to know so he could act. Properly.

Ferguson sighed and started, “Caffrey had been working in the library – I was on the shift supervising him and other prisoners when I was attacked. We thought that it was a gang initiation – my attacker had never been violent towards the staff. He stabbed me and was about to do it again – I probably wouldn’t have survived the second stroke. Caffrey tackled the guy – and you have to know that my attacker got something like a good 50 pounds and a few inches of height on him. The backup managed to arrive in time to deal with the rest – not that I know what happened. I was unconscious at the time.”

“Caffrey’s file says that he was a witness. Nothing more, nothing less…” Brooks said, browsing through the documents.

“Look, I didn’t know what they had put in there… I was able to give my testimony over 24 hours after the attack… And I told about Caffrey’s role.” The guard licked his lips nervously.

“And surprisingly Caffrey slipped in the shower two days after your attack and broke his ribs…” Judge Brooks said in his calm yet angry voice. He continued, “Let’s start again – what did happen and why is it not in his file…”

“I have no idea.”

“Ok. We can play here by your rules or by mine – you do have an idea. If you choose the first option, I will guarantee you that I will find out and I will make people pay for their mistakes. Do you need some time to consider your options?”

“Look… I don’t want any problems – as I told you – I owe him. When I came back to active duty, I tried to make it up to him… Better food, more privileges, things like that…Caffrey’s a good kid – quiet, polite, sociable. He stayed out of trouble. He tried hard to survive here…”

“I didn’t know that your life is worth only some cookies and few showers more…” Brooks said sarcastically.

“It’s not like that….”

“I don’t have time to waste on you. But I will find out…” Brooks was about to stand up.

“Stop. I’ll tell you – my colleagues screwed up.” There was some silence before Ferguson started talking again.

“They threw Caffrey in solitary – but didn’t check him over. They weren’t sure about his role – the situation looked like he might have provoked the attack or that he had been in the fight and I had been attacked trying to intervene. Of course none of the prisoners said a thing. So when I woke up and told them what he had done, they released him. But my attacker had cracked two of his ribs. It was a few weeks after his battle with pneumonia and it took a toll on him. We didn’t want it to look like neglect – two incidents in such a short time… So… you know… we changed the testimony a bit… ” The guard tried to avoid eye contact with both men.

“Do you realize that Caffrey might have been refused his work release because of this incident…- or rather your description of this incident?” Peter asked. The agent was getting more and more angry – indifferent witness and active protector were two different roles and had different implications. He remembered wondering if Neal would help him if push came to shove, if Neal would have his back. Even his wife was skeptical. Hughes and his junior agents were quite open about not trusting Neal until the first time the kid’s actions saved someone on the team. Then Neal started gaining everybody’s trust, which was deepened over weeks and then months of working together.

“Sorry… Look, I wanted to help my buddies from here…And it was a mutual benefit – Caffrey was better treated by us and he wasn’t considered a snitch by the other prisoners…I didn’t think of the long-term consequences for him… but I thought you wanted to talk about his age… Is it true?” The guard tried to change the subject.

“Yes. He was barely sixteen when he saved your cowardly sorry ass…” Brooks said and stood up. Ferguson didn’t say a word – guilt evident on his face. The guard himself wasn’t bad to the core – but his moral spine wasn’t the strongest and it was quite easy to manipulate him. Besides, he had some money problems – his divorce was ugly and he needed cash. He was promised five grand for a tip if anyone ever came to the prison asking about Caffrey’s age. A guy had approached him some time ago in a bar and asked for a favor – Ferguson was to send an e-mail and pick up the cash the next day. As easy as that. The method of payment wasn’t the safest if somebody decided to screw him over but at least it guaranteed discretion. As soon as he was done with Brooks and Burke, he would do what had to be done. No harm done, right?

“We’re done here…” The judge told to no one in particular when he left the room. Peter followed him.

Judge Brooks stopped in the corridor and sighed deeply.

“Damn it. What we will find next, hmm? I’m not naïve – even if I don’t approve of it, I know that official files are changed for whatever reason…No, actually I am naïve – I thought that it wouldn’t happen in this case…”

“You know that you don’t have to do it…Dig into all the information… the past is the past…” Peter tried to sound convincing.

“No…I need to do it… I want to know what my son went through. What I subjected him to…”

He took a deep breath and said, “Let’s go to the doctor’s office…”

Brooks arrived armed with all the necessary documents – in case somebody dared to demand them. So it wasn’t a problem to get access to Neal’s medical files as well. The doc wasn’t too happy about the late hour but he prepared what was needed. He was grumpy and not overly nice but Peter had the impression that it was a facade he put on to test them– to check if they were here to help Neal or to make it worse for him.

“Caffrey, Neal, arrived in summer of 2010. His medical history - pneumonia, two cracked ribs and chest infection. Problems with maintaining healthy weight. That’s it.”

“No. It’s not. He spent two weeks here. You talked with him. There’s more then we can read here.” Peter tried.

The doc apparently tried to assess the situation. After a moment he asked, “Why now?”

“Neal’s in the hospital with a lung infection and he was very distressed when his doctor had to drain fluid from his lungs. We want to know why…” The agent continued. The doctor had a concern written all over his face.

“Is it true about his age?”

“Yes. He was a minor when I arrested him.” Peter answered.

“A minor?” The doctor sounded surprised.

“Yes. Doctor, he is not in any trouble – quite the opposite. We want to know as much as possible about his past – and why no one said anything.” Peter tried to convince the doctor and the man sighed and said,

“He asked me not to.”

“What?” Brooks barked.

“I made him talk once – and he told me that he might have changed his date of birth – from 1990 to 1992. I did the math, talked with one of the lawyers who told me that it wouldn’t change anything. Or maybe even make things worse for Neal – additional charges for document forgery. So I let it be. How did he become a minor?”

“He was born in 1994 and kidnapped in 1998 – his kidnappers made him older.” The doc sat down heavily on one of the chairs in his office.

“Jesus…and we bought it…I should have known – he looked younger, especially when he lost weight. If I were to make a guess, I would say that he had put on weight and built his muscularity in a year or two before prison – like he had unlimited access to food and he used it. Caffrey didn’t know that he was that young, did he?”

“No. He still doesn’t – he is too weak right now for that kind of news. Doc, did anything happen here to freak him out? Anything at all?” The doctor shook his head.

“No. He already came here afraid of hospitals and medical personnel. You have to know that Caffrey is a nightmare for any doctor – he has problems with admitting that something is wrong, that he doesn’t feel ok. When you ask him how he feels don’t expect the truth…”

“Instead you get, ‘I’m fine,’” the agent answered and the doctor nodded.

“Yeah. I told the guards here that if he admitted to having a paper cut they better check to see if he wasn’t bleeding internally…You can’t trust him with his own opinion about his health. For his own sake. When the guard brought him in with fever, dehydrated, malnourished and with lungs so congested that the kid was barely breathing, he tried to con me into letting him go back to his cell. It’s highly unusual for prisoners – they do a lot of things to get their hands on drugs and to be admitted to the infirmary. He was doing everything to be released. I almost had to sedate him in order to examine him.”

“Did you drain his lungs?”

“Yes. I managed the second attempt. First time I tried he started hyperventilating and he passed out. Second time I was smarter and I dosed him with enough tranquilizers and analgesics that the procedure was smooth and pain free.”

“Did he talk about why he hated hospitals?”

“No. But I guess something must have happened earlier.”

“And what about his ribs?”

“Well, that was one of the strangest accidents – first time I ever saw a person who was completely dry while showering. Strange isn’t it? Whatever happened, he didn’t rat on anyone.”

“Anything else we should know about?”

“Make sure he eats – he can go on without eating for some time. There was a prisoner – he targeted Caffrey for whatever reason and ate the kid’s food – and it was almost a week before somebody noticed and took action. The kid didn’t complain…After the pneumonia I decided to weigh him and check his blood work at least once a month. Better to be safe then sorry. It took him awhile before he managed to put on weight – the fuss with ribs didn’t help – but I guess that his cellmate and one of the guards helped. But you have to watch him – he seemed to be used to not paying attention to hunger.”

“Thanks, doc.” Peter and Brooks left the infirmary and then made their way to the exit. The judge was overly quiet.

“Do you want me to drive?” Peter asked.

“No, I’ll manage. It just hard to process everything… My son was beaten and was hungry as a child. Probably he was even starving. What kind of father does it make me… I didn’t protect him… I should have looked harder for him, I should have…”

“ What could have and should have been done is not important right now…Because there’s nothing we can do about the past. We can only try to unravel the mystery and try to serve justice if necessary…”

“Justice? I’ve never cared less about it. Even if I file a complaint on the behavior of the guard what good will come from it? The guy gets suspended or demoted. That’s it. How it will help Neal? It’s just hard, Peter.“

“I know.” Peter understood Judge Brooks too well.

“Let’s go home and get some sleep.” The judge said and they drove mostly in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More about Neal's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for kudos and reviews!
> 
> Beta - my Ayam. Thank you! All mistakes are mine!

“Agent Hughes, Neal Caffrey as Danny Bennett grew up in St Louis. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“How did he end up in New York?”

“When James Bennett killed Ellen Parker, Vivien’s drinking got out of control. We suspected that she had some problems sooner but they grew after her husband was sentenced. She started to have money problems – they lost the money from the aunt’s will because of a fraud. Vivien must have been approached by Keller – he had probably worked with Adler before. We don’t know how much she got for letting Neal go with him. But she basically sold the kid to Keller for money. Keller traveled with him, eventually bringing him to New York.”  

“Did you manage to find her?”

“Yes. The list of charges is long – but there will be no trial. She was offered a deal – 20 years without parole. Probably in her case it means life.” Hughes suspected that June, Mozzie or even Neal’s mom would have a debate sooner or later about whether to put a hit on her or let her rot in prison. If they chose the latter, they would make her pay one way or another for hurting Neal. He would bet on that. Not that he blamed them.

*****

The night in New York was peaceful – Neal’s breathing was more and more regular and he was holding his own. Dr Cheng was informed on the ride home of the information gleaned from the prison doctor, but told Peter and Neal’s dad that the findings from the prison didn’t explain the kid’s fear of medical procedures. They suspected that information about the facts behind that fear was still hidden somewhere in Saint Louis. Hidden and ugly.

Brooks drove the agent home where he found Elizabeth waiting for him. He loved her for many reasons – such as the fact that during tough cases she didn’t ask questions – she was simply there for him. They could sit in silence, hold  each other, watch a movie or a game, eat comfort food. They weren’t a perfect couple – if something like that even existed – but close enough. El had visited Neal sometime during the day and she knew that as hard as it was for her, it had been ten times harder for her husband.

“Neal seems to be doing better all things considered.” She told Peter.

“Yeah.”

“And what about when he’s discharged? Maybe you can invite him to stay with us. I can mother hen him. It’s at least half as many stairs.” The agent didn’t say a word.

Peter didn’t want to talk about it – because somewhere in the near future he would have to tell Neal the truth about his past – and there wasn’t any easy way to do it. How was he supposed to tell Neal that he was younger and that he has loving parents waiting for him? Lost in his thoughts, Peter hoped that Neal would find his own place – and rebuild his trust in people.

“Hon, let’s not talk about it. Neal’s doctor and June will make sure he will be fine.” _And his parents too,_ Peter thought. 

“Ok.” El understood that even if something was bothering her husband, he didn’t want to share it with her. The couple spent time just like that – being there for each other.

The Brookses spent the night together as well – Ann was busy in the kitchen together with Michael who had the deal from the DOJ spread on the table. He was reading it over and over trying to find legal holes and making sure that nothing had been missed. His colleagues from the DOJ were almost begging him to convince his son to accept the deal. The sooner, the better. The judge didn’t agree with them on that and made it clear that he and his son would need time. Right now there were more acute problems, such as Neal’s lack of appetite and lung infection. The deal could wait – first Neal would have to be informed about the situation.

“He drank my pineapple smoothie. He liked it. I have a carrot cake in the oven – the one he loved as a kid,”  Ann said to her husband. She was sure that Neal wouldn’t be able to eat the amount of food that was being cooked for him, but it didn’t make her stop – tomato soup was next to be prepared. And then maybe some grilled chicken salad…

Michael smiled looking at his wife and then at the papers – it was actually good to do something for their son, to become a part of his life. Even if he didn’t know about it, even if it were just small things, even if it might not last. They – Ann and Michael -- were happy now. But they weren’t sure that it would be a permanent state.

The judge was frightened – both about the past to be discovered and the future to be created. He had to believe that Neal would talk to them, would accept them. Neal – when had he stopped being Danny and became Neal? He didn’t know but he was sure that the kid abandoned his birth name for a reason.

“Do you think he will want to talk with us?” Ann asked one of his own unanswered questions.

“Let’s hope he will give us a chance.”

“What if not…”

“Don’t. Don’t think like that.” He interrupted her.

“Michael, we have to be realistic – what if he accepts the deal and then starts his life without us.”

She had a point –  what if their hope was premature – what if Neal didn’t want to meet them…When they were looking for him, hoping to find him alive, it wasn’t a matter of if he would meet them or if he would let them be a part of his life. Maybe it had been just wishful thinking –the chances of finding him alive after so many years were slim to none.What if… _Stop. The glass should be half full, not half empty,_ the judge told himself.

“Then we will let him and just try to make sure he is safe. We need to let him do it on his own. We need to let him decide.” Michael just prayed to all the gods that were listening and paying attention to their small drama, to not let it happen, to give them a chance to be a family again.

“I know… but it’s hard to acknowledge that he grew up. I wanted to take his lion and bring it home – but it’s his. Not mine…As hard as it might be, we have to accept his privacy…”

“We will.” Michael stood up and hugged his wife. What else could he do?

The night in St Louis wasn’t that peaceful. Recurring nightmares kept Jones from catching much sleep and the thin walls of motel rooms made the night hard for Diana, too. In the morning she went to the nearest coffee shop and brought two of the biggest cups of the strongest beverage available.

“We both gonna need it.”

“Yeah. We will.” Jones replied.

They hadn’t managed to gather much information the evening before – the school was closed and the police officer they spoke to wasn’t very forthcoming.

“Look, Bennett might be a son of a bitch – but he was still one of our own. Internal Affairs was after him before he was arrested but the guy who was the lead detective retired last year.” The sergeant at the precinct told them.

“Did Bennett ever talk about his family? Did he ever bring his son with him to events such as picnics or to the precinct?”

“I don’t remember much.” Jones and Diana knew that it was the lost cause.

“Call us if you recall anything else.”

“Sure.” Jones was certain that even if the guy knew something he wouldn’t talk. He didn’t count on a call from him.

“That wasn’t much help.” Diana commented after they left.

“At least he gave us the address of the IA detective and we can come back tomorrow to talk with Bennett’s partner,” Jones replied.

So in the morning, after the coffee and some bagels, the agents decided to start with a school Danny had attended. Thanks to Sally they had, among other things, a school photo.

“Is it just me or there are bones protruding from under the clothing?” Diana said when she saw the photo. Young Danny – or young Neal – they didn’t know which name they should use-- was a cute kid. No – would have been a cute kid if it weren’t for his too sharp cheekbones and too baggy T-shirt almost falling from his too slender form. His eyes were blue, his smile mesmerizing and his hair ruffled. But there was a sadness in his eyes that shouldn’t be present in an eight-year old boy.

The school was big enough to offer anonymity and indifference but it seemed like that wasn’t the case here - there was something homey about the décor in the corridors. A man in his late thirties met them as soon as they arrived.

“My name’s John Taylor – I’ve been Principal here for the last four years. Let’s go to my office so we can talk. I have Daniel Bennett’s files from all schools he had attended as requested.”  The guy was polite enough not to mention that their ‘request’ was heavily supported by a warrant.

When they were seated at the table and offered coffee, the Principal started, “I know that you’re here investigating possible child abuse and neglect. I have looked at Danny’s files –you’re probably right. I can only offer apologies that he wasn’t offered any assistance when he was a student here.”

“It’s a bit too late for apologies, sir.” Jones replied.

“I’m aware. But… but you have to understand something – he wouldn’t be the first case of a child that wasn’t offered protection from abusive caregivers in this school…”

“Is that an excuse? If so, it’s a very poor one,”  Jones continued.

“No. It’s not. I can only hope that I managed to put a stop to the indifference of teachers and social workers, that our programs have been making a difference. Do you know why I started working  here?”

“No idea,” Jones said. The principal sighed.

“A girl committed suicide after having been bullied – adults had been informed about her situation and didn’t care. It was that one thing that caused authorities to look more closely and make some changes. When I came here, I fired almost half of the staff – I won’t let people who don’t care near children.  The rate of burn-out among teachers is high – but children like Danny can’t face indifference. But for that poor boy it was already too late – he dropped out of school sometime in 2007.”

“Can we talk with his teachers?”

“I can give you their names but they don’t work here anymore  – either retired, fired or murdered.”

“Murdered?” Diana asked.

“Yes. You didn’t know about it? Ellen Parker – an art teacher – she was murdered by Danny’s father. Soon after that incident Danny left school. Here is her mom’s address. And one more thing – our janitors – at least some of them, are still working here. And they have eyes and ears all over the place and know more than they usually  admit. Can I help you with anything else?”

“Was Danny a good student?” Taylor looked at the files and replied.

“Define good. I read his files – he started school in 1999 – a year later then he should because of some medical issues – there is a professional medical opinion here. He was polite, not causing any trouble – but he wasn’t doing too well. At least for the first three or four years – he was falling behind in most of the subjects. Due to his illness – according to his parents’ opinion. He was small and skinny, so sport wasn’t his thing either. He didn’t even take part in PE classes. But then he seemed to catch up – and his grades improved. He always showed a great artistic talent. I wish I could tell you more – but I wasn’t here when he was a student here. But why is the FBI suddenly interested in his case?” Taylor knew that child neglect and abuse wouldn’t cause such a response from the FBI after so many years.

“We re-opened one of the old cases.” Diana and Jones had clear orders not to talk about their true motives and not to reveal the true cause of their visit. Taylor didn’t buy it but didn’t want to be perceived as nosy.

“Ok. Let’s find somebody who might shed some light.” They left the office and went to a small room when two janitors were getting ready for their daily chores.

“Mr Smith and Mr Janko, these are Agents Jones and Barrigan with the FBI. They’re here to talk about Daniel Bennett. Maybe one of you remembers him?” the Principal asked.

“The skinny polite kid? Sure I do.” One of them spoke up.

“What can you tell me?” Jones went straight to business. The janitor – a man in his late 50’s with a mustache and soft brown eyes, started talking,

“You know, back then, nobody paid attention to kids like him. His mom was a con-artist – always dressed to the nines, always picking him up from school, always kissing him goodbye… But she wasn’t a good mom. Good actress, that’s all she was.”

“Why do you think she wasn’t a good mom?” Diana asked.

“You should have seen the kid – he flinched when she touched him. What kind of a mom doesn’t take care of her child – and this woman didn’t, she didn’t feed him enough, didn’t buy him toys or even decent clothes. “

“How do you know all that? And why didn’t you tell anyone?” The janitor started laughing.

“I did. But I was told to mind my own business. Look, I might not have all these fancy diplomas but I know that Danny was abused. Sometimes he didn’t come for a couple of days – his mom always told a story of him being sick and his weak immune system due to some illness. In my opinion this child’s health was iron strong to survive all her so-called care – she bragged about being a nurse – I doubted she was.  How many times can a child run into a door?” After a sigh, he continued.

“Do you know that I caught him picking food from other children’s lunches? He started crying and telling me that he was just hungry… And it wasn’t because of lack of money in the family. His mom always fancied herself a new dress or something like that. Then the kid started to make friends due to his artistic talents – for not always legal things. Not that I blame him – at least when he started earning at the age of 11 or 12 I think, his cheeks  started to have some color. And he was always so small, so fragile… I just hoped that there would be someone to come and take that child away from his family. But then his dad killed Mrs Parker and Danny left school soon after. Never heard a word from him. Is he ok?”

“He will be.” Diana told him in a soft voice. Jones didn’t utter a sound – but she was sure that if he had a chance to find himself near Vivien Adler-Bennett, he wouldn’t be a gentleman.

“Call us if you remember anything else.” The janitor nodded.

The agents left the school.

“Damn it. Why do things like that still happen?”

“Clinton, the Bennetts had thought it through – no PE, so nobody noticed the bruises, pretending to be always there for your child, previous sickness as an excuse. I bet that medical opinion postponing Neal’s starting school was forged.”

“Yeah, we’ll check it. But why kill one of Neal’s teachers?”

“No idea. But the files should be waiting for us in the St Louis FBI field office. Let’s go there and then we’ll decide what to do next.”

While Diana and Jones were searching and gathering information, Ferguson – the CO from the Sing Sing – sent an e-mail to the anonymous account hoping that it would give him the much awaited check. He didn’t know and didn’t care that the e-mail was read by Matthew Keller, who was on the road to New York not even an hour after receiving the message. He had his own sources and he knew that Caffrey had been working with the feds. He didn’t know about the undercover operation that went south and left Neal injured but he soon found out about the kid being in the hospital.

“Neal Caffrey, we will meet again soon. You cost me a fortune. I knew that letting you go was a mistake. I just hoped that someone might have finished you off in prison. Now I’ll have to do it all by myself.”

Keller wasn’t stupid – he knew that if someone had found out about Neal’s true age, he himself was in huge trouble. Sooner or later someone would connect the dots and unravel his role in Neal’s crimes. And as much as he knew how to hide and stay at large – he didn’t plan to be wanted by the FBI. He still had hope that he might correct his past mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keller will be next...
> 
> Ch 10 should come by the end of this week but then - then we will have a two-week break (I'm going to Italy for a week). Deal? Deal :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal's past and his future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two days, two chapters :) A new record :)
> 
> The next one will be in two weeks because I'm going to Italy for a week...
> 
> All mistakes are mine! Beta - as always - my lovely Ayam! Thank you!

“Agent Hughes, why didn’t Neal Caffrey  tell anyone that he was forced to commit crimes? The girl he tried to protect was already dead.” Hughes sighed and smiled.

“You have to understand one thing – Neal has never been a bad person – quite the opposite. But he was just a child – abused, neglected. He had the same needs as any child – he just hid them better. Keller was a promise of a better life – even if it was outside the law. But for Neal it was life with no hunger, no pain, no worries about basic things – things no child should worry about. The promise soon started to fade away – Keller began showing his evil true face. But he needed Neal – and the only way to make him do whatever he wanted, was to threaten the girl. So Neal tried to protect Kate and then – he tried to protect us.”

“Us? To whom are you referring ?” The asker sounded surprised.

“The FBI officers who pursued Caffrey, and their families. Keller made Neal believe that people around him get hurt – and that it’s Neal’s fault. Ellen Parker, Kate Moreau… It wasn’t very hard to convince him it would happen with someone else. That people would be injured or killed, that Neal’s uncooperativeness would bring grief and mourning to innocents, that he would shatter happy families. Danny had one dream – to have a loving family. So when Danny became Neal, it was the easiest place to strike – to threaten any family. He knew too well what it meant not to be loved and cared for. The boy somehow made it his goal to protect other peoples’ lives.”

*****

The day and the following night were peaceful – too peaceful. Like the calm before the storm. Without any warning signs.

Neal was recovering in the hospital – trying his best to eat at least some of the goodies prepared for him. He was sleeping a lot but after they drained his lungs, he was breathing more easily.

Diana and Jones were still in Saint Louis digging out information and trying to find missing puzzle pieces. His colleagues did a very good job and assembled a variety of files. What was surprising (or maybe wasn’t) was that Danny Bennett didn’t have a single file concerning his medical history.

“Vivien Adler-Bennett was a nurse – she even had a brief work history but was fired from one of the hospitals in New York and never worked again,” one of the agents told them.

“Do we know why?” Diana asked.

“A patient died and she was found guilty of neglect – she didn’t report his worsening condition. She didn’t have a good reputation there so nobody missed her – the words of one of her colleagues, not mine.” Now Neal’s fear of hospitals and medical procedures made more sense – probably his co-called mom took care of him. And probably the competence and gentleness of this care was dubious at best.

Diana and Jones studied more documents – mostly about Bennett and Ellen Parker’s murder. Bennett was suspected of taking bribes and involvement in various illegal activities – there were even names of the suspected criminals. Among others, two were already known to the agents  – Vincent Adler and Matthew Keller. The latter had never been caught.

“Did Adler run his schemes in St Louis as well?” Diana asked one of agents from St Louis FBI field office.

“One place is as good as another, isn’t it? He moved from place to place. He died in New York.”

Then they had other files from Bennett’s murder case. The medical report with data from Ellen Parker’s autopsy stated that she was stabbed and died at the scene – in her parents’ house killed by James Bennett. He was found guilty – he didn’t say a word during the trial. It was suspected – or more accurately – there was a gossip about him and Ellen having an affair. Her parents denied knowing anything about it. Her father had died sometime ago – her mom still lived in the same place.

“Why did he kill her?” Jones voiced a question.

“We don’t know – it looked like a quarrel ending badly. It wasn’t because of money – she didn’t have much. It was gossiped that they had a secret relationship and he wanted to end it because of his wife but Ellen’s parents didn’t think that they had an affair. We ruled out also Bennett’s illegal activities. We don’t know.” The same agent replied.

“Could it be linked to Daniel Bennett?”

“Bennett’s son? Why?”                   r

“Just a thought.” Diana replied smoothly.

“Sincerely – I don’t know. Bennett went to her house, they argued, he grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed her. Her parents said during the investigation that Ellen was worried about one of her students – but they didn’t know the family name. They name they’d heard was Neal – but Ellen didn’t have a student with that name,” the agent told them. Diana and Jones exchanged glances – somehow Danny had become Neal.

“And it wasn’t a federal investigation so we weren’t lead on the case. We tried to find out as much as possible but it wasn’t easy.” The same agent managed to communicate in a polite way not to expect too much from the local police.

“Ok. Let’s go and  talk to Ellen’s mom.” They thanked their colleagues and drove to Mia Parker’s place.

“If I didn’t know about Neal’s past, I would never have suspected that he was abused as a child. We have to admit that he succeeded in maintaining a great mask, conned us all. And his age – good diet and good genes he told me once. I’m gonna strangle him…”Diana said during the 20-minute ride.  _And then I’m gonna hug him._

“Yeah. We the fucking almighty FBI were conned by a teenager. Why? Why didn’t he ask for help?” Diana sighed – that detail must have skipped Jones’ attention.

 “He did ask. Peter told me that Cross – Neal’s cellmate – said that he was asking for help but never received any.”  Suddenly the realization hit Jones hard.

“Damned cards and drawings. How could have we been that stupid?” Jones replied. Diana just nodded. Hughes had organized a team of Harvard graduates to solve the puzzle. So far nobody had cracked the code. They drove the remaining distance in silence.

“Mrs Parker, Agents Berrigan and Jones. We would like to ask you some questions about your daughter.”

“Please come on in but I don’t know how I can help you. I told the officers who were investigating Ellen’s murder everything I was aware of. Ellen, she…she was so full of life, so brilliant, so innocent… How could it have happened…” She sighed leading them to her living room.

When they sat down, she continued, “As you know, Ellen was killed almost eight years ago. She would have turned 35 next month but she never will. My daughter’s violent and unexpected death left us – my husband and me  -  heartbroken. No parent should ever have to bury one of his own. Even after all these years, I can’t understand why it happened. Do you have any new information? Are you going to re-open the case and let the bastard who killed her go free? I don’t think I could stand that.” She sounded more and more agitated.

“Mrs Parker, James Bennett died a few months ago in prison. But we would like to ask about Ellen’s work as a teacher. What can you tell us?” Diana spoke in a soft voice. Visibly calmed, Mia answered the question.

“She loved her job. She had a natural talent for working with kids – so they loved her, too.”

“Did she ever mention any child who caught her attention?”

“Yes. She did – it was a boy. She called him Neal – but I’m not sure if it was his true name. She said that he was incredibly talented – a real artist― but that he came from a very bad family. He was beaten, starved, unloved. Ellen wasn’t a very experienced teacher – but she wanted to help the boy. She addressed his mom about her suspicions. Do you know what happened next?”

“The kid paid the price.” Jones whispered.

“Indeed. He did. I still remembered Ellen crying the night after she somehow discovered his bruises.  The new ones. The principal told my daughter to stay out of it. So she did – trying to gather some evidence.”

“Did she manage to pass the evidence to someone, to any authorities?” Diana asked.

“No. She didn’t. She was killed before she could.”

“Do you still have her materials?”

“I do. If you’ll excuse me for a second.” Soon she was back with a box.

“Here it is.” Mia Parker brought them a plastic box with Ellen’s name on it. Inside were some photos of a boy with bruises that couldn’t be hidden by clothes, the kid sitting alone and eating an apple during lunch when his figure screamed that he could use a hearty meal with seconds and a calorie-packed dessert, and some showing his inadequate and worn-out clothes. The kid’s face was covered but it should be easy enough to identify the child – brown curls, skinny build, clothes remembering better times.

  
“Ellen was devastated that nobody cared – nobody tried to understand the kid’s situation and offer some comfort. Not teachers, social workers, anyone. If it weren’t for her, who would care?” The agents just nodded, digging through the documents.

There was also a letter to one organization dealing with missing children – Ellen suspected that Danny wasn’t the biological son of the Bennetts. But she never had a chance to send it.

The last item was a homemade book – made of drawings and pictures. The title said _Neal and his adventures_. Diana and Jones recognized Neal’s neat handwriting. The book described adventures of a little blue-eyed boy named Neal. He was happy and loved. He had toys – his favorite was a lion but he had many others. His adventures, presented in a form of a comic book, were simple –a homey meal, decorating his own room, visiting the zoo, celebrating his birthday, spending a vacation with his family, getting ready for Christmas with a tree, Santa Claus, cookies and presents. It wasn’t about stings and high-value world-class paintings. It was about everyday life. Normal life.

“Mrs Parker, did you show this to the detectives?”

“I did. But they told me that it wasn’t relevant so I kept it.”

“We would like to take this box as evidence.”

 “Not until I hear some explanation. Could you tell me why are you here? What’s all about?”

After a moment of hesitation, Diana started.

“We believe that your daughter was killed because she tried to protect a child. She knew him as Danny Bennett.”

“Her murderer’s son?”

“Yes. But it wasn’t his true name – he was born to another family and kidnapped by the Bennetts. Right now the investigation is on-going so we would appreciate your not sharing this information with anyone else. As far as we know your daughter was the only one who cared about this boy.”

“The boy… Is he alive? Is he doing ok?”

“He’s alive. He’ll be fine.”

“Oh my God… My daughter died a hero.”

“She did.” Diana smiled softly and soon the agents left Mia Parker’s place.

“We have an answer to your question… Neal survived because he created for himself his own better world.”

“Cappuccino in the clouds…”

“Supper on the table.” Jones replied.

They grabbed something to eat and headed to meet Bennett’s old partner who was openly unfriendly.

“Look, James was old school – children were to be seen, not heard. Spanking didn’t harm anyone…”

“He broke his son’s collar bone and never got him medical treatment. He broke his ribs. He starved and neglected him.” Jones told him. The guy didn’t even flinch.

“But the kid survived long enough and took off when his old man was sentenced – who cares now…”

“We do.” Jones added.

“What do you want me to tell you – that I’m sorry? For what?”

“Did you know how Bennett treated his son back then?”

“I know that what goes on between parents and kids is private and no one should butt in. It’s good to keep kids on a short leash…” Diana put a hand on Jones’ shoulder to help him control the surging urge to hit the guy.

“We’ll come back if we have more questions.” She told him and dragged a boiling Jones out to the car.

“Son of a bitch! He knew about it! And he didn’t even think about trying to help…” After Jones calmed down, they called Peter and told them about the findings.

“Ok. We can assume that Ellen Parker was killed because she was too close to the truth. Good job. Come back to New York this afternoon. Sally and the St Louis FBI field office would like to try to find Vivien and Keller. I’m not sure if we find out anything more if you two stay there. Get some rest and we’ll meet around 9:00 tomorrow. I’m heading home. Neal’s been doing ok. June has the morning shift and I’m expected there around lunchtime. ”

 Peter requested all the information on Keller from one of the probies.  There were still blank spots – why and how Neal got involved with Keller but Peter’s urge to know was suppressed by his need to rest and relax. So he went home to his wife, his dog and his couch with his TV and a game on.

In the morning Peter didn’t even have a chance to go to the office because Mozzie alerted him that one of Mathew Keller’s aliases was used in New York a few hours ago. The agent decided to go to the hospital and inform Neal’s guards. Just in case,  his gut told him.

Keller was already there – dressed as the physical therapist  he had cold bloodedly murdered to obtain the credentials and everything needed to pass security. His body was found later in one of the storage lockers. Keller’s plan was simple – enter Neal’s room and finish him. Keep it all quiet and fast. He knew that it was his only chance before someone started looking and making Neal talk.

Keller smoothly passed the guards at the door and entered Neal’s room. June was readying herself to leave. Neal was sitting on the edge of the bed – dressed in sweats and a loose fitting long-sleeved T-shirt. He knew that his physical therapist was scheduled to come and work on his weakened muscles.

“Oh, your physical therapist is here, Neal. Time for me to go. I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything?”

“No. I’m ok.” June stood and greeted Keller on her way out of the room.

“I hope you two will have a great workout.”

“We will, Ma’am.” Neal immediately recognized this voice. Raspy, with an unidentified accent. The voice that had threatened and mocked him. The voice that had taken everything from him – his love, his freedom, his innocence. Neal froze. It wasn’t uncommon  – when a person faces a traumatic situation, it’s not only a flight or fight response. Sometimes there is no reaction whatsoever. But even if the kid would have liked to alert someone, he didn’t dare – in one smooth move Keller showed a weapon hidden in his waistband. His glance followed June and conveyed a silent message. Neal understood in a second.

June left – but she somehow felt something was off. She asked the guards if they had checked the guy and even their affirmative answer didn’t ease the tension she felt. June went to the nurse’s station to find Jenny and send her to Neal’s room for whatever reason, but she was on her break and due back in five. June grabbed her purse more tightly and decided to wait.

Back in Neal’s room, the kid was taking fast and shallow breaths trying to bite the hand that covered his mouth and was trying to force a gag in it. His hands were pinned above his head by Keller’s other hand. His broken arm protested against such a treatment but Keller didn’t ease his grasp. Neal tried to think of the best way to give himself a fighting chance - he knew that Keller hadn’t come there to pay a social visit. Neal’s struggles only made Keller angrier. 

“Neal, Neal, Neal… I gave you too much freedom. And now – you’ve been working for the feds, and the feds have been digging into your past. Don’t move. Did you complain to your friend Peter that your mom and dad treated you badly? Or that uncle Matty wasn’t the best either? Not good.”

“Go to hell Keller and say hello to my father and Adler.” Neal struggled to speak through the gag without much success.

“So sweet. Little pet tries to talk. Don’t worry you’ll soon meet your Kate. Lovely, sweet Kate. Let’s make today a confession time. Do you know why she had to die? She wanted to go to the FBI and ask for help. Silly her. Naughty her. Adler was just collateral damage…”

“You bastard…” Neal muttered through the gag, still struggling.

“Easy Neal, we don’t want you to tire yourself out. You might have a heart attack and what fun would it be then in killing you? Neal, you have to understand I need to do this. Besides, who would miss you? Now, when your best skills are not being used you’re nothing more than a pathetic man with no future.” Neal tried to fight his way out of Keller’s grasp but the man was stronger.

 “I’ll tell you something in secret – I know that you and Kate dreamt of a happy family because yours weren’t the best. Two lost souls finding each other…Almost made it… Probably afraid of your heritage – asking what kind of parent you would make… You shouldn’t have worried… Vivien and James weren’t your parents. They took you from some family – probably from people who were much better folks, maybe who would miss you or even love you… Nobody will know now. And one more thing - they made you a bit older too. Ok – no more talking. Let’s end this. Good night, Neal.”   The moment Keller tried to grab a pillow a few things happened simultaneously.

First, Jenny came back from her break and was en route to Neal’s room immediately. Second, Peter entered the floor and seeing June’s worried face, went to the guards. Third, a loud thump and a cry for help were heard. Both coming from Neal’s room.

There were many ways of killing Neal – a supine, sick, skinny kid, half the size of Keller. Gun, knife, poison or so many others. All of them effective. But when picking the way to end Neal’s existence, Keller’s ego got in the way and made him chose something different – more personal, involving more contact, making his victim suffer more. He wanted to see life seeping away through Neal’s eyes, maybe he wanted to feel he owned his victim’s life, being able to decide between life and death.

That was Keller’s first mistake – Neal wasn’t a victim – he was a survivor. And he wasn’t a kid anymore – he might have frozen when hearing his enemy’s voice, Keller’s words might have hurt him badly, the old wounds might have been reopened – but Neal wasn’t a teenager lured by a picture of the promised land and by the simple fact that he had food on the table and hot water in the shower. Neal had a family – even if not bound by blood – to live for, to fight for. So he might be weak and barely able to stand but it didn’t make him less of a fighter. So when Keller tried to smother Neal with a pillow, the kid started to kick and fight as if his life depended on it. Correct. His life depended on it.  He managed to kick Keller, and they both ended up in a heap on the floor. Neal spit out the gag and screamed as loud as he could for help. The adrenaline rushing through his veins gave him enough strength for the fight but still – Keller was bigger, in better health, so he regrouped, quickly assessing the situation that had suddenly gone south. He grabbed Neal, yanked him to his feet and dragged him out of the room. Outside, Peter and the two guards with their weapons drawn were ready to enter.

“Nobody moves.” Keller barked holding a knife to Neal’s neck and in his right hand a gun to the kid’s temple.

“I’m getting out of here. Alive. Neal here – it depends on you. For me he is disposable but it must be a lot of paperwork if a snitch dies. Don’t move a muscle because I won’t hesitate. His life is of no value to me.”

“Keller, there’s no way out. Surrender or we will have no choice but to shoot you. Drop your weapons.” Peter demanded.

When a criminal was trying to use a hostage as a human shield, threatening to kill if approached, it was all about angles and positions and not losing one’s cool. So while Keller was trying to get out of the hospital dragging Neal with him, he knew that he couldn’t expose himself and give law enforcement officers a chance to fire.

“He’s such a good pet – isn’t he? You can try to shoot me but what if I made a sudden move? Or I pull the trigger... muscle spasms or something. Drop your weapon or I’ll kill him. No kidding here.” In order to show them that he wasn’t joking, Keller pressed the knife a bit harder and cut Neal’s neck, just above his right collarbone. The kid groaned and tried to struggle but events were taking their toll on him and he was growing weaker by the minute.

Keller assumed that taking Neal would give him a free pass, a way out of the hospital alive.

The finale mistake came with thinking that only Peter and the guards would be armed. There was one more person who had a gun and had no problem shooting a man. Especially a man who tried to hurt Neal. Her Neal.

“Keller, drop the weapon. Now.”

“I don’t think so. Your pet and I – we’re getting out of here. And I’m not joking.” He cut Neal for the second time. A trickle of blood oozed from the small wound. The kid wasn’t looking too good – they needed to act and to act quickly.

Peter debated what to do – neither he, nor any of the guards had a clean shot to take Keller down. He didn’t want to risk Neal’s life– one sudden move and the situation could end up really badly. Then he saw June out of the corner of his eye taking a gun out of her purse. The agent nodded – he suspected that she didn’t need any encouragement but in case somebody questioned the shooting, he would testify that it was his decision. A moment later a shots was heard and disbelief flickered across Keller’s face just a moment before a crimson stain colored his shirt. Soon he went limp and crumpled to the floor taking Neal with him. Peter wasn’t fast enough to grab the kid before he hit the ground. The agent was next to Neal in no time. He moved Keller’s body and started to press Neal’s neck wound – it wasn’t serious but it bled.

“Neal, kiddo, you’re safe. You’ll be all right.” He tried to sound calm and reassuring. Peter saw that the guards had secured Keller’s weapon, that there were more people gathering in the hall, that medical personnel tried to treated Keller, that somebody grabbed June and made her sit down – none of that mattered. The only person that mattered was Neal.

“I need some help here!” In an instant, Jenny and other medical personnel were next to him.

“He’s going into shock,” someone said.

Peter heard Jenny say, “Neal, sweetie, you’re safe, nobody is going to hurt you.” The kid was regaining some level of alertness and coherence.

“I’m gonna be sick.” There was a bowl placed under his chin. Then somebody covered him with a blanket, and hands lifted him to a gurney.

“Is he dead?” Neal asked pointing towards the man’s body.

Despite doctors efforts Keller was indeed dead. June shot him straight in the heart – apparently even bastards like him had one.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Who is he?” Jenny tried.

“No. Who killed him?”

“I think it was Mrs Ellington. Don’t worry about it right now.” Neal was taken to one of the rooms – his own had just became a part of the crime scene. Peter was standing in the corridor trying to gather his thoughts and assess the situation – June was nowhere to be seen. The agent managed to call Hughes and Neal’s father to appraise them of events before Jenny came to get him.

“Agent Burke, we need you in here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry - Neal is fine
> 
> And - some spoilers - he will meet someone next chapter :)
> 
> Kudos? Ideas? Reviews?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal and....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Did you miss me? I missed you! Italy was lovely - I could easily imagine Neal walking down the street, visiting the art galleries and buying all these fancy clothes... Yeah...
> 
> My Ayam did such an amazing job with this chapter! Thank you!
> 
> All mistakes are mine and sorry for them!
> 
> And...tissue warning...

“Agent Hughes, most of people working on Mr Caffrey’s case were seasoned law enforcement officers but this case seems to have shaken everyone more than any other case. I understand that his story is… unique but… I still don’t get it…”

“You don’t understand why a story of an abused, beaten, starved child who we managed to send to a maximum security prison for his teenage years and then ended up working with us and was again kidnapped, starved and beaten under OUR watch and whose past was discovered only by chance ―-would make us…angry, disgusted and determined to find those responsible? You don’t understand that?”

“No…I mean…”

“You mean that we should what – as one of my agents says – ‘cowboy up’? It was everyone’s lack of empathy and it-can-not-be-that-bad-thinking that caused all of this. So no, I won’t cowboy up.”

*****

“What’s going on? Is Neal ok?” Peter asked.

The answer wasn’t completely unexpected. “No. He isn’t, but he refused further medical care –we managed to clean him up and dress the wounds on his neck, photographed what was necessary for forensics and then he told us that he wants to be discharged. Against medical advice. He wouldn’t even agree to our restarting the IV or to X-rays to check if anything was damaged in his arm. His hip is badly bruised – we should check it just to be sure the bone wasn’t chipped. He is clearly distressed.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“I know but he’sstill too weak, his lungs aren’t clear and he needs to eat more. We can talk about recovery outside the hospital in a couple of days – not earlier.” Jenny said, her tone rising. She was also shaken – she liked the kid, it had been nice to see him on the mend, being taken care of – and now they were almost back to square one. The nurse had heard some snippets of conversations about his rough childhood and how now a loving family was waiting for him. She couldn’t just let Neal walk away and risk his health or life. It was too much for him – first being beaten and starved when the FBI hadn’t arrived in time during the operation, then the thankfully interrupted trip to prison and now this man trying to kill him.

“Here we go again.” Peter sighed remembering Neal’s first day in the hospital. The agent entered Neal’s room – the kid was sitting propped on the pillows, dressed in a gown. His own clothes were packed for evidence. Dr Cheng was trying to reason with him but the kid wasn’t listening.

“No. I want to be discharged.” Neal was repeating like a mantra. When he spotted Peter, he tried again, seeing the agent as his last bastion of hope.

“I…can you take me to the motel? I don’t want to stay here.”

Then he added in small voice, “I…I don’t deserve all of this. June is in trouble because of me…”

Peter tried to think about his next move, tried to find suitable words. Over the course of the last few days, his natural cowboy-up response had been suppressed and exchanged for a much softer version of himself, but the agent still wasn’t at ease with it. Not that he didn’t like it.  

“Neal, there’s no way you’re being discharged today. Not the slightest chance. And June is not in any trouble. She will be back in no time. She’ll probably get a medal for saving people’s lives.”

“Don’t let her get arrested… please…” _So much for not being traumatized by prison_ , Peter thought.

“Don’t worry about it. Let Jenny and Dr Cheng take care of you.

“I can’t stay… People will get hurt…”

“Neal, Keller is dead. He can’t blackmail you or force you to do anything else. I promise.” Peter realized too late than he had said too much – but now he couldn’t back off. Neal – even weak, even just after almost being killed – was still sharp enough to add two and two together.

“How…How do you know his name? How do you know that he forced me?” Peter sighed and looked at both Dr Cheng and Jenny. They understood the message.

Dr Cheng told the agent: “If he starts to feel worse, let us know. We’ll look for Mrs Ellington. You two talk and then we’ll go to radiology.” Jenny spread blankets over Neal and she and Dr Cheng left the room.

“Scoot over.” Peter sat down next to Neal. The kid was pale and during his fight with Keller he had acquired a few new bruises. His neck was decorated with a heavy dressing.

Peter realized he couldn’t put off this conversation any longer. He knew it would open old wounds for Neal, but could only hope that the possibility of a brighter future would give him hope that the wounds could now heal.

“Neal, there’s no easy way of doing this, and I don’t know where to start.” The agent braced himself.

“We don’t know everything – but we suspect that you were committing crimes under duress. That there was a girl named Kate and you were trying to protect her, that you asked the FBI, no…you asked me personally for help – and I didn’t do a thing. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Neal. But sincerely… I… I didn’t notice the _Help-me_ note in your cards and drawings – nobody did. We got it all wrong. Just today one of the geeks from the Harvard crew cracked the code on your messages. I’m so sorry that I didn’t.” Peter was talking in a soft voice – trying to calm Neal, keeping his arm reassuringly at the kid’s uninjured hand. For a moment Neal was speechless. The blue eyes looking at Peter weren’t angry or disappointed, they were surprised.

“It’s ok.” He said suddenly.

“No, it’s not. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped…” The agent blurted out. Neal smiled sadly. He shifted on the bed, trying to draw his knees to his chest and curl into a ball but his hip and his ribs protested.

“Oh.” He groaned.

“I’m calling Dr Cheng.” Peter stood up.

“No. Stay. I’m fine. I don’t need all this…please…I’ll tell you…Where is June? Please don’t let them take June, please.” The kid didn’t seem to be able to stay focused on any other subject.

“Neal, June will be fine. Nobody is going to hurt her or charge her with anything. Don’t worry about her. She will give her statement and be back in no time. It was a justified shooting – Keller threatened you and us with deadly weapons. He cut you. ” The agent pointed towards Neal’s neck. The kid reluctantly dropped questions about June. Then he pulled himself a bit up and played with the corner of his blanket. Peter decided to wait patiently.

Finally he managed, though it was obviously a struggle. “I was….. I didn’t want any of you to get hurt.   Keller said he’d….   You all had lives, families…people who loved you…people to come home to. I… with Kate dead…I didn’t have that… No one would have noticed if I died. So I thought that it was better this way…Keller threatened to take his anger out on you or your wife or anyone close…he sent me a clipping from the society section of the newspaper with a picture of Elizabeth at one of her events. I got the message. The only letter in prison I ever got…” Neal chuckled bitterly.

Peter’s voice faltered, “Jesus, Neal… _we_ are law enforcement – it is we who should protect people like you – innocent civilians. Not the other way around…”

“I know…now…It’s just…hard to believe you know… when people around you tell you that nobody would bother…when your father is law enforcement and treats you like you’re nothing… when your mom is rarely sober and treats you no better… then when Keller takes you and everything is fine for a while and then…then he becomes just another monster and tells you that the only person who ever loved you, who ever cared, would pay the price if you didn’t do what he wanted. Because you’re nothing…as good as your last forgery…then you start to believe that you’re nothing… Keller loved to repeat it every day…”

“You know that it’s not true. That you’re smart and kind and good to the bone… You know that Keller sold you a pack of lies…”

Neal started to chuckle. Again. With the same bitterness.

“I wish one of the lies he told me hadn’t been a lie.”

“Which lie was that?” Peter asked gently.

“It’s stupid, you know…my parents didn’t love me… didn’t care if I was hungry or not… so when I was little I had one dream – to have another family. It was easier that way – to imagine things, to – at least in my dreams do stuff like other children… to… to be loved.” The last part of the sentence almost wasn’t audible because it was whispered so quietly.

“You are loved…” Peter wrapped his arms around Neal and held him closely. He had never seen the younger man so vulnerable, so open, so fragile. The kid was sobbing silently.

“When Keller tried to… you know… it’s stupid and it’s probably just another trick he used…”

“What did he tell you?” Peter asked in a soft voice – but he heard his heart beating loudly in his chest. What if…

The kid didn’t answer right away, chewing his lower lip for a while before he whispered, “That the people I thought were my mother and father kidnapped me from another family when I was very young. And that the family they took me from loved me. But with Keller… it’s just another lie.”

 _So much for preparing Neal for good news_ , Peter thought. He wished June were there but until she came back he was on his own. The agent rocked Neal gently telling him, “Neal, he didn’t lie about the kidnapping or you being loved by your real parents.”

Neal just stared at him, his mouth slightly open, unable to speak. Peter didn’t see any other choice but to tell him the truth.

“You were born Daniel Brooks on August 1, 1994, and James Bennett kidnapped you from the hospital just after you had had surgery to repair a broken arm in April of 1998. The Bennetts changed your birth date to make you two years older.”

“It’s…it’s not possible…”

“Believe me – it is.”

“So I _do_ have a family?” Neal asked with so much hope in his voice.

“Apart from us – you mean? Yes, you do.”

The hope in his voice started to falter. “Do they know who I am? That I’m a criminal, that I did time, that I didn’t even finish high school…”

“Well, you’re not a criminal but even if you were, they wouldn’t care – they love you and they are happy you’re alive.”

“They love me? But…but… they don’t know me.”

“Yet they love you.”

Neal couldn’t name the emotions he felt. The first he felt was anger – towards people who made his life so miserable. But they weren’t there. Peter – on the other hand – was. The kid didn’t think twice.

“Oh. But… Why you didn’t tell me?… I trusted you…You tricked me – like everybody else, you made me believe you cared and… I fell for it… I always did…why…” A sob escaped and he abruptly broke contact with Peter, moving away from the hug.

The agent sighed and tried to sound calm and reassuring, “Kiddo, I do care.” He let the words sink in and continued, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know. I just found out because of the surgery on your arm.”

Neal was listening intently – it was only a few days ago when he woke up to the smell of hospital and to the voice of Peter. Safe. Rescued from monsters who had left him for dead. But now, after the battle with Keller, it felt like ages ago.

Peter continued, “There was an pin in your arm from a surgery a long time ago. It had a serial number and Dr. Cheng looked it up and realized it was from a boy who had been kidnapped from the hospital many years ago. He told me, and I went to talk to your parents. Your real parents. They had never stopped loving you, or hoping some day to find you.”

Neal was sitting with his eyes wide open. His chin was quivering and it was obvious he was fighting hard not to cry. Peter moved closer and again embraced the kid gently. Neal didn’t withdraw this time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. But I believed it would be better to wait until you were stronger – that a couple of days wouldn’t change anything. You were so weak. We wanted to make sure you were well enough, strong enough, that the news wouldn’t delay your recovery. I didn’t want to cause harm.”

Neal debated for a minute what to say. “My parents… so they know.”

“Yes. Your mom cooked you some things. The pineapple smoothie? It’s from her. And I wouldn’t piss her off if I were you– somebody smashed Agent Thomson’s windshield and slashed his tires the morning after he tried to transfer you to prison. She got one of your not-so-innocent-but-you-do-not-have-proof looks on her face when your father found out about it. You got your artistic talent from her as well.”

It took Neal a moment before he asked, “Do I have any brothers or sisters?”

“No, kiddo. You don’t.”

“Any my father…” _Here comes the hard part,_ Peter thought.

“Well, does the name Brooks ring any bells?”

“Like the judge?” Neal’s voice hitched a bit. Peter knew that they were entering touchy territory.

“Yeah, the judge.” Peter waited for Neal to understand, then watched a series of emotions follow one another across his face when he did. Amazed comprehension, then anger, briefly, then hurt, and finally, a kind of sad resignation which seemed to be his default emotion when he wasn’t putting on his usual fronts.

Peter continued gently.“ He didn’t recognize you. On paper you were 20, and his son would have just turned 16. Nobody suspected that you weren’t even 16 at the time I caught you.”

It was hard for Neal to process everything – especially his realization that the stern and severely punitive judge at his trial was his own father – so he deflected the conversation away from it, a tactic Neal was very good at.

“I felt older.”

Peter sighed. There was so much truth in this short statement. He tried to lighten the mood.

“June promised to confiscate your wine collection. You can’t even legally drink alcohol.”

“That’s fair. I spent years locked up in prison but I can’t drink wine,” Neal whined a bit, but there was no more anger there.

Peter’s voice broke as he said in a strained whisper, “I can’t ever forgive myself. I’m so sorry.” Neal was shocked by Peter’s reaction – he didn’t want to make him cry.

“It wasn’t that bad… My cellmate was a great guy – he took care of me better that my own…than the man who kidnapped me ever did.”

When he saw Peter’s tears, he said, “We can’t both cry.”

“Why not?”

“Cowboy-up?” Neal told Peter.

“Not this time, kiddo.” The agent and the kid sat together, crying silently.

After a moment there was a knock on the door and June entered Neal’s new room.

“Darling, are you all right?” She asked seeking in Peter’s face an answer to why they were both sobbing.

“He knows.” Peter told her. She smiled and sat down on the other edge of the bed.

“I wish you had found out in a different way.”

“Did you know?” Neal asked.

“I did. Peter told me what the doctor had found in your arm. And I wanted to tell you but you were so weak… I couldn’t. I needed you to be a bit stronger.”

The kid nodded and then asked, “Are you ok? Are you in any trouble?”

“Me? I’m a tough old bird. I was promised a bouquet of flowers and an official commendation. There are a bunch of eyewitnesses, CCTV footage and so on to support my decision to shoot. I had to give them my gun for forensics and I will have to go to the local precinct to give a statement at some point.” Michael Brooks had taken care of everything and June had been sent to Neal as soon as Jenny came to get her.

“Thank you.” Neal smiled.

“Not a problem.” June hadn’t hesitated when taking the kill shot – she was more afraid that the bullet would accidently hit Neal as well – she had had a number of worse case scenarios playing over in her mind until she saw him unharmed. The rest was dramatics – a damsel in distress top performance. She let herself get checked out, she let them believe she was shaken to the core. But at the bottom of the heart she was grateful. June knew that she had saved them all a lot of trouble and a lot of money – not that the latter mattered. The “help” she had hired after they had found out about Keller no longer had a job, since she had taken care of it herself. She wondered if she should cash the check…At least Mozzie’s contribution… the Children’s ward could use some new equipment…But all that could be figured out later.

“Neal, I’m not in trouble. But you’re very close to being in big trouble yourself. Jenny told me that you want to be discharged. That won’t happen. Are we clear here?”

“June, I don’t need medical attention…” June was slow to anger – but right now Neal was about the face her wrath. Peter hadn’t thought that June was able to use that kind of tone.

“Stop. Now, I’m going to get Jenny and you are going to get X-rays. You fought Keller so hard – I won’t let you be your own worst enemy. No more arguments.” She calmed down a bit and Neal saw an opening.

“June… “

“Darling, what is it?” June sensed that this time it wasn’t about getting out of the hospital.

“Do you think…that…my…it’s stupid…”

“No, it’s not.”

“Doyouthinkmyparentswouldliketomeetmesometime?” The kid blurted out at such a high speed that it took June a moment to decipher the message. When she did, she smiled softly.

“Well, you know, they were worried about the same thing – would you like to meet them? But they had faith that you would. They’re outside now waiting to hear how you’re doing. How about a family reunion – a quick one before the trip to radiology?”

Neal nodded uncertainly, too full of competing emotions to speak.

Peter stood up and said, “I’ll get them.”

Peter went to the corridor and spotted Judge and Mrs. Brooks. Michael was finding out how Keller had managed to get through security, Ann stood by his side. When she saw Peter, she paled.

“Is Neal ok?” Ann asked as soon as the agent reached her.

“He will be. Nothing too bad as far as we can tell. But…well…Keller spilled the beans and told Neal about the kidnapping. He wants to see you.”

“Really? Michael, that’s great news…”

“Let’s hope so…” The judge didn’t share his wife’s enthusiasm. He was the one who had sent his own son to prison.

“Does he know who I am?” Michael asked.

“Yes.”

“And?”

Peter sighed. “Hard to predict – he just changed the subject as soon as he found out. But he doesn’t seem to be angry. He’s… overwhelmed. We need to keep this meeting brief – he needs to get checked out.”

“Ok. Let’s do it.” The judge said and hugged his wife. They paused and collected themselves for a moment before knocking and entering Neal’s room, Peter at their heels.

“Neal, this is Ann and Michael Brooks. They’re your parents.” June told the kid. Neal’s mom was first to come to his side.

“I’m Ann. I’m your mom. I like to draw like you do. And…and this is Michael. Your dad.”

“Thanks for the smoothie. And the windshield I guess.”

“Not a problem.” Ann smiled. Neal focused his attention on his dad.

“You don’t like me.”

“No. I didn’t like that a brilliant young man was playing with us, that he was using his talents to break the law. Your trial was in the summer, so close to my son’s -your -birthday… My son was missing and a young man not much older was wasting his life…I… I was angry, bitter…I’m so sorry… If you hate me, if you don’t want to see me… I understand…if you…I should have paid more attention… I should have helped you…”

“So it’s not that you don’t like just me, personally?”

Michael had tears in his eyes. “No. I love you.”

“You don’t know me…”

“It doesn’t matter. I love you. No conditions. I hope you can forgive me.”

Neal started to speak but his voice broke. He took a shaky breath and started again. “Sorry…it’s just… I didn’t expect… I dreamed so long of having a family…”

“It’s ok.” Ann gently sat down next to Neal and invited Michael to sit sat on the opposite side as June stood and backed a little away from the tableau. She wrapped Neal in a hug. It was easier for her than for her husband – but when he started to draw small circles on the kid’s back, Neal didn’t protest. They stayed like that for a moment but the Brookses remembered that their son needed medical attention and that his energy was probably fading.

“Sweetie, let’s get you checked out.” Ann said, changing from a hug to just holding his hand.

Neal seemed finally willing to acquiesce. “Will you be here when I come back?”

“We will.” Michael assured him in a shaky tone.

“Ok then.”

Ann pushed the ‘Nurse Call” button and Jenny arrived and was told that Neal had agreed to have x-rays to check for additional injuries. She accompanied Neal down to the X-ray Department to make sure he was seen and returned as soon as possible.

Neal was fighting very hard not to fall asleep on his way back, but was glad to see Ann and Michael were still in the room waiting for him, along with Peter and June.

Ann, resuming her post beside his bed, could see that he was struggling to stay awake. “You’re exhausted,” she said. “Why don’t you nap for a while?”

“Will you be here when I wake up? June and Peter could use a break from my whining and coughing. Besides I don’t walk very well yet and I think Peter is getting worn out from half carrying me.”

Michael smiled, brushed a curl back from his son’s forehead and said, “Let’s see if my personal trainer has earned his paycheck.”

Neal, feeling cherished for perhaps the first time, soon fell into a deep and healing sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos? Ideas? Reviews?
> 
> I promise to reply sometime next week when I wrap up some things at work...
> 
> I needed a break...but now I have to think where to go with this story... no worries some ideas are still unexplored :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal and his parents...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay... I hope I will be forgiven!
> 
> Some things are AU - be warned!
> 
> Thanks for kudos and reviews! I
> 
> My lovely beta Ayam made all the hard work! Thank you!
> 
> All mistakes are mine (and- it's fanfics - please keep it in mind!)

“Agent Hughes, it didn’t take long to find Vivien, did it?”

“No. We were lucky – she got into some kind of fight and needed medical attention. She didn’t suspect that she would be arrested and charged with kidnapping after all this time. She thought that it was a perfect crime. It wasn’t. She didn’t realize that there is no statute of limitations on abduction in federal law.”

“How did she behave during the interrogation?”

“You have it in the files.” Well, most of facts were in the files. Some – like the fact that a bulky agent had to use physical force to restrain Judge Brooks from entering the interrogation room and taking care of his son’s kidnapper―weren’t. But Hughes didn’t think that they were relevant.  Not entirely.

“Ok. How would you assess her? Off book?”

“Off and on the record – it doesn’t matter. She is a manipulative, sadistic liar. She can play people and use them to achieve her goals. To sum up, there’s one word that describe her – it’s not used by cultured people, though. It starts with a ‘b’.” There were some smirks in the committee that Hughes noticed in the corner of his eye.

“Mr Caffrey met her, didn’t he?” 

 “Yes. The meeting didn’t end well and I’m more than happy that she will rot in prison.” 

*****

Neal was sleeping and Michael was cherishing every moment – each breath the kid took, each slight twinge of a muscle. He looked at his wife holding their son’s hand, humming something and re-arranging the blankets if he stirred. The scene would be almost perfect – if it weren’t for the fact that they were in a hospital or that between now and the last time he had watched his son sleep over seventeen years had passed. Over 6000 nights of _not_ watching his son sleep.

On the other hand, if somebody had made demands, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t sacrifice for one moment like this one. He knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to give up his freedom, his health, his possessions, his life, for his son. He would make any deal with any demon that could have been summoned up on the crossroads. He just hoped that Neal would forgive him for not keeping him safe. Looking at today’s events, at the kid’s willingness to stay with them, maybe he would.

After some time, Dr Cheng entered Neal’s room and smiled at the scene in front of him. He checked the kid’s vitals and  spoke to his parents.

“He’s been doing ok. If everything goes as planned, I’m willing to discharge him day after tomorrow. But under certain conditions that can be discussed later – he still has a long road ahead of him. One of our top orthopedists took a look at his arm and his hip. Both need some further observation but it can be done at home.”

“What about them?”

“The arm wasn’t additionally damaged but his hip took the brunt of the fall. It will heal but Neal will have problems with walking for some time.” The doctor explained what had happened, but Michael didn’t register most of the jargon – strain, hematoma, extensive bruising – it all could be summed in one phrase – his son was hurt again and he didn’t protect him. Again.

“Stairs are off limits right now.” Dr Cheng added. That meant that Neal’s apartment was unreachable right now, too.

“Try to make him eat something when he wakes up. A physical therapist will come tomorrow in the morning to work with him.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

After a while, Michael asked, “Ann, what do you think we should do? He can’t stay in his apartment – too many stairs.”

“So we will convince him to stay with us.” Ann said in an almost naïve voice. Michael wasn’t so sure.

“Aren’t you worried?”

“About what?”

“What if we mess up, what if we cause harm.”

“Michael, of course it is possible that we’ll mess up and that we won’t be perfect. Because there is no such thing as perfect parents. It’s obvious that we have to learn each other from the beginning and that it’s not always going to be a nice and smooth process. We’ll argue, we’ll make mistakes. Right now we have to show him that we’re nothing like those monsters who took him, that we do care, that we respect and love him.” 

“Aren’t you worried that it was too…too easy?” Ann was surprised – but she understood her husband – he was more prepared for fighting, arguing, being rejected – not being somehow accepted.

“No. I’m more afraid that he will feel like he has to earn our love, that he will be too submissive, too ready to please us. I don’t want that. When he was a young child, he had his own opinion on almost everything – it was frustrating but it made him who he was. I miss that…”

Michael remembered all too well that Neal – as young Danny –had done things on his own: like putting clothes on (even if the right sneaker ended up on the left food), eating (even if the half of food ended up all around the kitchen), bathing  (even if the bathroom looked like after a flood). For God’s sake – even with his damn bike _– Look Dad, I can do it. I can do it_. And he could do it. He was almost a natural at many things – riding a bike as a 3-year-old – ok with those small additional wheels but the kid was great at that. Then their dream had ended and the nightmare had begun. A part of Michael wanted to know details – even the gory ones – about the kid’s past. Another part didn’t want that – the judge couldn’t think he could feel more guilt. Even the feelings had some limits.

Neal woke up some time later groggy from sleep and meds. It took him a moment to register where he was and with whom. He gave his parents a sleepy smile. Ann asked.

“How are you feeling, sweetie?”

“I’m ok.” His voice was still hoarse.

“Some water, hmm?” Neal sipped water and then he spotted a stain of Keller’s blood on his right forearm.  He tried to rub it off, becoming agitated in an instant.

“Shower… I need a shower. I feel him on me, his blood…” Michael immediately pressed the call button.

“Easy, son. Let’s wait for the nurse.”

“I want my own clothes…”

“Shh, ok. We will help you change. Don’t worry. Your nurse will be here in a minute.” Ann explained in a calm and soft voice.

Jenny wasn’t too happy about the shower but she knew her patient well enough to be sure that if he wanted something, he would do anything to get it.

“Ok. You’ll need assistance. Twenty minutes out of this bed and don’t even think of walking on your own.”

“I’ll help you.” Michael offered. Jenny helped Neal to sit on the edge of the bed, giving him a moment to get used to being vertical again. Then she disconnected him from all the machines, lay some towels, a thick bath robe and plastic wraps next to him and checked him over.

“Dizzy?”

“Nope.”

“Is the world spinning?”

“No.”

“Ok.” Jenny smiled.

“I don’t want you to touch me.” Neal blurted out to his father. _He is testing us,_ Ann whispered to Michael.

“Ok.” The judge said, and Neal was surprised – his ‘father’ didn’t take no for an answer.

“Sweetie, I’m going to warm up some food…” – and seeing Neal’s not too happy face added – “…hush, you need to eat something, and you two will figure out how to take shower.” Neal’s mum signaled the nurse to leave the duo alone so Jenny reluctantly left, following Ann out of the room.

“Ma’am, are you sure they will be ok?”

“They will. Let’s give them a chance.” Ann smiled. She was sure that it wouldn’t be easy but both Neal and Michael had to try.  In the meantime Neal was stubbornly repeating that he didn’t want to be touched. Michael took a chair and moved it closer to Neal’s bed. He sat down in front of his son trying to find a solution.

“Don’t touch me.” Neal repeated. Again.

“Ok. I can call Miguel or Peter.” Michael wasn’t about to give up – he knew that it was now or never to start rebuilding his relationship with his son, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to stress him.

“No…” Neal was at a loss – he didn’t know exactly how to express that he wanted and didn’t want to take a shower with his new-old dad’s help.

Suddenly the realization hit Michael. The kid was afraid of him– because father and touch in his brain equaled beating and pain, not safety and comfort. The judge gently took Neal’s face in his hands and locked eyes with his son.

“I will touch you but I won’t hurt you. How does that sound?” The judge somehow managed to voice the kid’s concerns. And he didn’t get mad.

“I….” Neal tried to find a reply that would be ‘acceptable’. Michael remembered from the trial all these small signs that the kid wanted to avoid a honest answer so he interrupted his son.

“I don’t want a ‘polite’ or ‘socially correct’ answer. I want an honest reply. We can work on your being afraid of me – we can’t build on cons and lies.” Neal debated for a moment what to do – for him it was a huge leap of faith to lower his defenses with somebody. Ok – it was safe with June and Miguel and Mozzie and sometimes with Peter – but Michael at this point was a stranger.

“I dunno.” It was the most honest reply he could muster.

“Ok. But you are afraid that I will hurt you, aren’t you?” Neal just nodded and added.

“I want to try…but what if I freak out or hit you…”

“Then I will get hit – and I’m not gonna hit back.” He paused and then continued.

 “Neal, we won’t know if we don’t give it a try. Whatever happens, I won’t hurt you or get mad at you. C’mon, before Jenny tells us that the time is up.” Michael tried, and Neal acquiesced. The judge gently embraced his son, helped him stand up and put him in the wheelchair taking him to the adjacent bathroom with a wide shower stall. He was talking all the way in a soft, reassuring tone, first saying what he was about to do then doing it.

“C’mon, sport. Lean on me. Up and down. Now our ride. And up, step and down. Let’s get the gown off.”

“No…”

“Ok.” The judge backed off. He knew that his son had been through horrible traumas and needed love, respect and reassurance. For both of them it was a new, unknown territory to explore – to establish a bond that was interrupted years ago.

“Let’s cover the private parts and then let’s lose the gown.” Michael gave Neal one of the towels and turned around to give his son some privacy. Then he covered his bandages with plastic wraps. When the judge started the water, Neal tensed.

“Shh, it’s ok. You’re safe. What do we have here? Oats shower milk and lavender shampoo.” The kid  didn’t relax despite his father’s fruitless attempts at steering the conversation towards small pleasantries.

“Let’s start with your hair.”

“No…The water…” Neal said in a shy voice.

“What about the water?”

“Could you check it…” The kid’s words were almost not audible. Vivien or James didn’t care if the temperature of the water was reasonable – too cold or too hot, they didn’t care, so until Neal learnt to take care of himself bath time was a nightmare. Michael tried not to wonder why Neal was anxious about the water but double-checked the temperature.

“Ok. I think it’s ok, but tell me right away if it is too hot or too cold.”  He sprayed a little on Neal’s foot and then looked at him for a response.

“It’s ok.” The water was pleasantly lukewarm. 

The rest of the shower was mostly uneventful. Michael was gentle and Neal was relaxing a bit. The judge took in the kid’s appearance – too thin frame, protruding bones, myriad of bruises, cuts and welts at different stages of healing. Neal’s back and torso reminded a canvas created by an abstract painter – a yellowish stain here, a green there, some purples next – all tangled and mixed up creating a picture of pain and suffering. And his failure as a father.

Michael was drying Neal when the kid asked suddenly.

“Do I have to go back to prison?”

“No, son. You don’t. You shouldn’t have been in prison in the first place. I’m sorry.”

“What will happen to me?”

“Don’t worry about it – your mum and I will take care of everything.”

“But I need a job…and I don’t have even have a high school diploma…I…”

“Neal, son, your only job right now it’s to get better, which means among other things to regain the weight you lost.”

“I’m a slim build.”

“Yeah. You didn’t get it from me.” Even after shedding many pounds Michael was still much heavier than his son – with his broad shoulders and muscular build. The statement elicited a shy giggle from Neal.

“Right now you’ll have physical therapy to build up your strength. Nothing more. We have plenty of time to discuss what happens next.” Michael assured.

“But if I don’t have a deal with the FBI, I don’t have the insurance and I can’t afford medical care.” Neal knew that his ‘emergency jar’ didn’t contain much – not enough to pay hospital bills.

“Son, don’t worry about it. That’s the good part about having a family. We will take care of everything.  I know it’s new and it’s hard to change the old habits but you don’t have to worry about anything. It’s our job to do that. Are we clear here?” Neal reluctantly nodded.

Michael pushed the wheelchair back to his room and helped him to the freshly made bed. Jenny had returned and checked the stitches and the cast. Then with the judge’s help, they dressed Neal in his own clothes.

“All healing nicely. Eat something and rest.”

Ann came in with a tray of food – soup, salty crackers, ginger ale.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know you’re not. But I have a pineapple smoothie and a piece of carrot cake for dessert…” Ann tried to bribe her son.

“I know you won’t eat much but let’s try a bit.” Neal managed a few spoonsful of soup, two or three crackers and a few sips of ginger ale. Even the promise of goodies didn’t make him eat more.

“Sorry. I’m not feeling too well.”

“Ok. Close your eyes and rest for a bit. It will be all better when you wake up.” Neal was too agitated to rest – it was just too much to process all at once. Everything seemed to be too distant – the case, the kidnapping, Keller – as if it happened a long time ago in a life that belonged to somebody else. He felt safe but he had learnt not to get used to good feelings – in was deep in his nature to assess situations for possible danger.

The kid scanned the room. Someone was missing. Peter – no. June. June shot Keller. June was in trouble. Or maybe she wasn’t? Neal didn’t remember all the details.

“Where is June? She wasn’t arrested, was she? They shouldn’t but what if they would but what if…”

“No. She wasn’t. I promise that she is safe and sound. Don’t worry about her.” Michael said in a soft voice.

 “Close your eyes son, we will watch over you.” Ann spread the covers over Neal and the kid closed his eyes.

His sleep was surprisingly peaceful. Ann and Michael were trying to protect their son from all the monsters – when he started to tense, when the nightmare was approaching, ready to invade his dreams, they rubbed his hand or face and murmured sweet nothings. And Neal relaxed. They made sure he was as warm and as comfortable as possible.

“Maybe you should go home. He will be sleeping…” Jenny tried, only to receive a firm “no” from both Ann and Michael. They understood her good will but they just couldn’t do that. They needed to watch over their sleeping son. He needed them. They needed him. Even if the road ahead was long and winding.

In the meantime Peter went to the office to talk with Diana and Jones. They were going over the details of the case when a phone call came to their boss revealing some huge news. Hughes approached them in the conference room.

“Vivien Adler-Bennett was arrested in a hospital in St Louis. The paperwork is being processed and she will be transferred to New York tomorrow. Judge Brooks’ colleagues offered all the needed assistance and the St Louis FBI Field Office gladly handed the case over to us. Go home. Get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.” It wasn’t that late – the agents were used to working longer hours, but Hughes wasn’t someone who was willing to change his opinion. Even though his agents tried to protest.

“Since Caffrey was taken we’ve been pushing ourselves to the limit. And we still need to do that – but we won’t be any good to him if we’re too tired. Remember – it’s an old case – and we need to stay fresh and focus. Out of the office. Now.”

Peter reluctantly left and drove home. El was waiting with dinner. And a bout of chastising.

“I was so worried. A shooting in Neal’s hospital was reported all over the news. And you didn’t pick up your phone! You can’t imagine… Mozzie texted me that everything is under control! Mozzie! Because I couldn’t get hold of my husband!”

“Hon, sorry. It’s just…it just all happened too fast.”

“Is Neal ok?”

“Yes.”

“Hon, I know that there’s something about the case that’s bothering you more than ever. Neal’s on the mend. Did something else happen?”

Peter debated for a minute if he should tell his wife about Neal’s parents and the kid’s past. It might not be the most ethical behavior but he needed to get some things off his chest.

When he finished, El had tears in her eyes but hugged Peter more closely.

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”

“I know. But it’s hard…”

“Neal has a bright future ahead of him. We should focus on that.”

“And on bringing justice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will meet Vivien in the next chapter...
> 
> Kudos? Ideas? Reviews?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivien and the deal...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,  
> Still with me? Thanks for comments, kudos and reviews!
> 
> I'm so sorry for the delay - but Vivien wasn't easy to write...And my lack of knowledge of federal law made things harder too...
> 
> Anyway - I tried to write it in the most authentic way:) But still - I'm not a lawyer! All mistakes are mine and I take full responsibility for them!
> 
> Huge thanks and hugs to my beta Ayam - she pointed out my mistakes (the logical and legal ones too!) and correct my English as well - she did an amazing job and thanks to that I think (and hope) that the chapter is much better! Thank you!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> 

“Agent Hughes, it’s quite unusual to have an undercover operation led by three civilians across two states…”

“I’m not sure what are you talking about…”

“I’m talking about Mr Haversham, Mrs Ellington and her granddaughter and their involvement in the transfer of Vivien Adler-Bennett to New York.” 

“Ms. Adler-Bennett came to New York of her own free will.” 

“With a promise of money.”

“No. She wasn’t promised money. She was informed about a possible inheritance. It’s nobody’s fault that she might have misinterpreted these words.” Hughes smiled inwardly – Mozzie and Cindy made sure not to promise her anything or lie to her. Everything was recorded. Conning her? He could turn a blind eye.

*****

The first request that Hughes made to the St Louis FBI Field Office when he found out about the arrest was to hold off on filing charges. He thought that if there was some way to get her to incriminate herself before realizing that kidnapping charges were in her future, she would not be able to try to mount a defense saying that she hadn’t realized her husband had actually kidnapped a child – that she thought someone had abandoned the child and she and her husband were rescuers. They wouldn’t be able to trap her like that if she were arrested in St. Louis for kidnapping and extradited to New York for trial. They had to work outside the box. The only problem that the man who was the best at innovative thinking was the victim here. But the old fox had learnt some tricks, too, during his career.

When Hughes told his agents that Vivien was coming to New York, he hadn’t anticipated that it would be on a private jet with all the trappings of luxury. It was just convenient that their colleagues in St Louis suddenly became inefficient and lost some paperwork related to the case – so they weren’t able to charge her with anything before she headed off to New York. How unfortunate. Of course, some lawyers and other law enforcement officials were discussing what to do and more importantly how to do it legally. Just in case. But the first roles in bringing Vivien to New York and to justice belonged to Mozzie, Cindy and June – and the trio gave a spectacular performance.

The script for their performance had been worked out at a late meeting hosted by Agent Hughes one night at his house. Bancroft, Mozzie, June and a lawyer friend were there.

“I’m doing this for Neal.” The short man told Hughes over the case files and wine late in the night. It was time-sensitive – one wrong move and the case could be blown.

Probably there had been another way of doing it – like through more official channels, courts, and federal prosecutors in St Louis. With Neal on the witness stand going through his traumas once again, with all his words being vivisected, with his testimony being undermined by defense attorneys. With the press highlighting the worst of it and adding to the general agony. With no resemblance of normal life for anyone near the case for who knew how long. With the possibility of Vivien walking away and laughing at them for whatever reason or even becoming a celebrity and writing about how she found her new self and how sorry she was for the past. 

“Not going to happen.” June said the same night drinking the same wine.

And the plan was formed. 

Vivien had been arrested in the hospital for assaulting an officer who tried to interrupt a fight she was involved in. The doctors decided to keep her overnight. She didn’t lawyer up – she counted on being able to talk her way out of it and walking away. When she woke up in the morning, she found a bald, short man sitting next to her bed.

“Mrs. Bennett, if I’m not mistaken…”

“Yes.”

“My name is Dante Haversham and I’d like to offer my legal services to you. Free of charge.” Vivien was surprised.

“I’m not sure if I should. I don’t want to be perceived as a difficult…”

“Don’t you worry. And you can’t go to court in your old, ruined clothes. I have something for you.” He handed her a bag with nice new expensive clothes.

Brooks’ buddies, Hughes’ colleagues and June’s friends had all made some calls and the fix was in. Mozzie played his role of a lawyer perfectly and Vivien was more than grateful for only a slap on the wrist – she had to apologize to the officer. The DA decided not to push further – the officer’s report indicated the incident was minor. Everyone agreed to attribute Vivien’s mildly violent behavior to her minor head injury, stress and confusion. No harm done. Mozzie presented her as a law-abiding citizen who had tried to overcome some of her problems.

“I almost snorted. But I reminded myself that I was doing it for Neal. And for his confiscated wine collection.” He explained later to June.

After the matter of the fight was resolved, Mozzie invited Vivien for brunch.

“We can both use some calories. My treat. And there is something else I would like to discuss with you.” He explained. Cindy was already waiting for them in one of the bistros near the courthouse.

“My name’s Cindy. I work with Mr Haversham.” When they were seated at the table, orders placed, June’s granddaughter continued, smiling with the same mischief in her eyes that could be seen in her grandma’s on occasion.

“We have some news for you.”

“What kind of news? I didn’t do anything…” She started, still playing her innocent role.

“Well, you didn’t. Your husband did.”

“I’m not sure if I want to talk about him…”

“We don’t have to. But there is an inheritance to be discussed.”

“What kind of inheritance are you talking about?” Vivien knew that her husband did some things – more or less legal, on the side. Neither she, nor Keller or her brother, knew the details. She had surmised from Mozzie’s behavior that he was probably open to somewhat less than strictly legal interpretations of the law. She could use some money.

“We shouldn’t discuss it here. We have strict orders on how it should be done.” Mozzie started.

“I can go with you to your office…”

“But our office is in New York…And there are certain requirements associated with the case. Unfortunately, we are unable to alter them.” Cindy said with a sad expression on her face.

“Oh…” Vivien debated for a moment what to do. She had been staying in a cheap motel for the previous weeks but she didn’t want them to see her place of residence. Nothing to be proud of. Her conning skills weren’t that sharp anymore – and it was harder and harder to get money. She also found it hard also to control her emotions. Going with them to another state sounded like a nice change of scenery. If she didn’t have to pay for the trip. And maybe in New York she could start all over again. She certainly didn’t miss her old clothes.

“We can organize transport – a private jet is waiting for us and I guess that we could go shopping in New York. I could give you a nice check as a compensation for any inconvenience. Unless you want to pack some things from here…” Mozzie added, predicting that she wouldn’t want to. Vivien decided to go with them. Why not? It could be the best time in her life. She agreed.

 “Well, I have plenty of time on my hands.”

“That’s great. So you don’t mind coming with us?” Cindy asked, for the purpose of the tape.

“Not at all.” They ate and then headed to the airport. First part of plan accomplished.

While Mozzie and Cindy were working in St Louis, June made sure that everything they needed for later was ready and then she went to see Neal. She arrived at the hospital around noon after the doctors’ rounds and the first physical therapy session. The plane with Vivien was still in the air. She still had over two hours before the show.

June knew that Neal’s parents had spent the last 24 hours at his bedside and she wanted to convince them to go home and catch some sleep.

She knocked and entered the room. Neal was sitting in the bed talking with his parents and eating – at least pretending to. He was getting better, everything was healing nicely but his appetite wasn’t up to par. He quickly spotted her.

“June, how are you? Is everything ok? Are you in trouble…” He started with a bit of panic in his voice.

“Shh. Enough. Darling, I told you that I’m a tough old bird. I’m just fine. ” Neal smiled, visibly relieved.

“Thank you. Again.” He flashed back for an instant on how close he had come to death at Keller’s hands.

“Not a problem! I came here to keep you company so your parents can take a break. And I do not expect – nor I will tolerate – any fuss from any side. Am I clear?” Her tone left no room for debate.

Judge Brooks laughed and answered, “Yes, Ma’am.”

His wife wasn’t so easily convinced.

“June, thank you but…” She was interrupted.

“But you need a shower and some sleep in your own bed. We’ll be ok.”

“Go home.” Neal added. His voice flattened a bit with the word _home_.

“We’ll be back soon.”

“In the early evening you meant.” June added.

“Make sure he…” Ann started and June continued.

“Eats, sleeps, behaves.”

This time Ann laughed.

“Ok.” She kissed her son.

“Take care.” Michael added and they left with a promise to be back soon and with a request to be informed if anything came up or if Neal wanted anything.

June sat next to Neal’s bed.

“How was the night?” She asked, noticing – and taking it as a good sign – that some of the medical equipment was missing.

“Ok. Did you know that maybe they will discharge me tomorrow?”

“Yes, I know. And that’s great news!” June was in touch with Dr Cheng and of course was informed about the kid’s progress – ok, maybe a bit off-book. She sensed that something else was bothering Neal.

“Yeah. I guess…”

“Neal, you will be out of here. Aren’t you happy?”

“June, I am… but…”

“But what?”

He seemed to struggle to start, and then said in a rush, “When we were fighting and I fell off the bed I hurt my hip, and then he stepped on it, making everything worse and… and now my therapist told me that I won’t be able to manage stairs for a while. Walking should be ok in a couple of days.  But moving freely up and down stairs or walking on anything that’s not flat, that will take much more time.” June listened intently – she had already been informed about his hip. That didn’t worry her. But she also noticed how uneasy Neal felt about Keller – how he was loath to say his name – that was more worrisome.

“Sweetie, I can prepare a room on the ground floor. It’s not a problem. And your hip – that’s a battle scar. Something to be proud of, not ashamed of. Keller can’t hurt you any more.” Neal chewed his lower lip a bit.

“I know. But they… they offered to take me with them.” _Today_ _seemed to be Neal’s day for pronouns with questionable antecedents,_ June thought,but finally figured out that this was the crux of the matter– his parents had offered to take care of him. And he wasn’t comfortable with it. She didn’t blame him.

“Do you mean your parents?”

“Uhmm.”

“I didn’t think I would see the day when the silver tongue of Neal Caffrey would be of no use to him!” June joked and Neal sent her a small smile.

 “What am I supposed to do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I freaked out a bit when my… father… helped me with the shower. He wasn’t mad at me for whatever reason but it’s still strange for me…to have loving parents… like your own…not surrogate ones.” June sat on the bed and hugged him.

“Dear, he won’t get mad. He’s not the man who took you – he is not a monster abusing children! For Ann and Michael, it’s a new situation too. They lost a child and found a young adult. With over 17 years missing from both your ―and their ― lives.” Neal sighed heavily.

“And with a past as a criminal.”

“And with a bright future.”

“But still with a sentence on his resume…”

“None of that. You’re not a criminal – you protected someone you loved. Yes, we know – at least something ― about Kate,” she told him, answering his questioning look.

“We – all of us – should protect you. Don’t worry about the life you left behind…” She tried to assure him.

“I don’t know if they’ll let me walk free. Do I have to wear the anklet? Do I have to go back to prison? I don’t know what happens next...” His parents had assured him that he would stay out of prison. But life had taught him to question good news. To check twice. Or maybe even three times. He would ask Peter later. Just in case.

Technically Neal wasn’t a free man yet. The deal had been prepared and read by Michael and Mozzie. Some changes had been made, approved by the DOJ, and they were waiting for Neal to get better and to sign the documents, understanding their ramificationsfor his life – that he would be a free man with no criminal record.

In the meantime, nobody else dared to suggest an anklet or anything after some poor clerk from the Marshall’s office used Neal’s name, prison, holding cell, anklet in one sentence suggesting that the kid maybe should stay under direct supervision in some secure facility preferably in an orange jumpsuit until all documents were stamped, signed and processed. The judge didn’t exactly yell. But the clerk decided he would be well advised not to push the issue of restraints any further. Maybe Michael was a bit overprotective – but he was worried that a deal on top of the recent events could be too much. The DOJ wanted a statement from Neal about his past – and that was something that had to wait. The judge hoped that the promise that he would be taken care of would be enough for Neal. Apparently, it wasn’t.

“Neal, Ann and Michael, Peter, Mozzie and me, we will take care of that. No worries.” June tried to calm him.

Neal sighed. He had heard that already – but it wasn’t in his nature. He had fended for himself from a very early age. Ellen, his cellmate, Peter, Mozzie, June – they had all tried to offer comfort and somehow change that instinct but had not succeeded.

“They told me not to worry. That the only thing I have to do is to get better.”

“That’s true. Nothing more.”

“But it’s not easy.”

“I bet it’s not. But trust us.” Trust was fragile and ephemeral in Neal’s world.

“But it doesn’t help me now…” Neal whined a bit adding,  “What should I do?”

“Neal, it’s not about should, supposed to or have to. It’s about what you want. And whatever you chose, they won’t mind, be mad, be disappointed. They will still love you…”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Won’t you be mad if I go to stay with them for a while? Not that I will but if I would.” June smiled – she needed to be his strength – but her heart was aching. It was a rare thing to see Neal so vulnerable. So unsure what to do. With his masks lowered, with his cover breaking at the edges.

“No, sweetie. I will be thrilled if you decide to stay and also if you decide to leave! If the latter happens, I will still expect you to come back when you’re better to stay in the loft from time to time, to have coffee with me in the mornings on the terrace. The house is too quiet without you. My door is always open for you.”

June had received a frantic call phone from Ann the day before. They discussed the issue of Neal going home – both houses were undergoing some changes in case Neal wanted to stay here or there. It was not an easy decision for him to make – she knew that.

The kid didn’t say a word.

“Neal, whatever you decide – we will support you. If not at my place, at your parents’ house, there are still many options for you to consider– Burkes’ guest room, Mozzie’s safe house. Miguel can take you home too. We all love you.”

“I know… it’s just hard… all of these…”

Neal from very early on was good at pretending – that he wasn’t hungry, that he wasn’t hurt, that his clothes were nice and that he was just fine. All the bad things that were happening were suppressed, hidden deeply somewhere. He didn’t talk about them and tried not to think about them. But his Pandora’s box was opened now – the recent events: the kidnapping and the interrupted trip to prison, Keller and the past, the Brookses and the future – it was just too much. Neal didn’t like that – his emotions getting in the way, him being shaken, scared and unsure. He didn’t recognize that opening old wounds and cleaning them was a part of the healing process. And while a part of him wanted to believe in happily ever after and wanted to try this new happy life – another part was screaming to run away, to not get conned, not to trust. There was an invisible battle going on inside him.

“I can only imagine. But you don’t have to decide this minute, and you can change your mind at any time.” 

June understood that for Neal it was extremely hard – and that he was fighting his own demons. They talked for a bit about an exhibition at the MET until the kid was too tired and then she tucked him in, promising to leave him in the good hands of Miguel who was about to arrive.

When Neal was recovering in the hospital, Peter and other agents arrived at the office as always in the morning.

“Where is she?” The agent asked his boss who was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Patience, Peter. Patience. Drink some coffee, catch up on some paperwork. We still have plenty of time.” Hughes went back to his office where a federal prosecutor was waiting with the paperwork for a deal. For hours nothing happened. At least not where Peter thought it should be happening.

When the plane with Mozzie, Cindy and Vivien landed in New York, the next step in the plan was to get some admissible evidence. Or preferably – convince Vivien to confess and accept the deal.

The flight was uneventful – Cindy and Mozzie made sure that Vivien was well treated and relaxed. They shushed all her questions. She decided to play along – but she knew that something was off. She just didn’t know what – her greedy nature got in the way of her rational thinking. She thought that they wanted a greater share of her money – inheritance in her mind could mean only that. Or maybe some objects of art. She was a con woman – she didn’t suspect that they could con as well. Cindy said goodbye to her in the corridor of a tall building they drove to from the airport and was replaced by her grandmother immediately.

June greeted her leading her to a nice office that actually belonged to Mozzie’s law firm. He would probably burn it afterwards, June thought.

“Mrs. Bennett, I hope we didn’t cause you too much inconvenience.”  

“No. But I’d like to know what it is all about.” She tried to flash her smile, testing the ground. 

“Mrs. Bennett, before we go any further, I’d like to find more about your husband, James Bennett.” They were seated and offered some drinks.

“What would you like to know, Ma’am?”

“Well, whatever you’re willing to tell, something to start with, anything.” She was surprised. It wasn’t the sort of question she was prepared to hear. But she decided to give them what they wanted.

“He was the love of my life. You know – young people deeply in love, then dealing with the tragedy of the kid’s cancer. He supported me through our son’s illness and then during the recovery. Danny wasn’t the best kid – the doctors warned us that he might have some issues after the treatment he went through. He didn’t do well at school, he was too quiet, he had problems making friends. And Jimmy… Jimmy was pure gold – patient and good to the bottom of his heart.” Vivien studied their faces and tried to decipher if her words had any impact on them. Neither June nor Mozzie, showed anything – not even a twinge of muscle. Perfect poker faces.

To encourage her to talk further, June just nodded. With no other clue, she continued.

“The fairytale didn’t last…Then… then it must have been too much for him. He found a younger woman.” She started sobbing. June pulled a tissue and handed it to her. Not saying a word. They just let her cry – it was obvious that she was re-grouping and re-assessing the situation.

“Oh, my dear…” June let out a sympathetic sigh and dried a tear in the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry. It’s just hard. Even after all these years. And the worst part of it…After Jimmy was sentenced, I tried to raise my son to become a law-abiding citizen. But the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree… My tough-love methods didn’t work – I tried everything: spankings or other punishments like no dinner, I even tried to literally beat obedience into him but nothing was effective. I guess bad genes or something… I think he is still in prison, isn’t he? Maybe I should visit him, help him adapt  to society after his sentence is up… Maybe you could help me… Check on him? Please… I had some issues – I drank too much but I’m sober now and I’ll help him. He didn’t commit any more crimes, did he?” She tried over and over again to get some information she could use to her advantage.

“Ma’am, why do you think that he committed more crimes?”

“After my husband was taken to prison and sentenced, I wasn’t the best mom. And he decided to leave me – not that I blame him. The man he went with, Matthew Keller – he is nothing but trouble. You should find him!” They were amused by Vivien’s acting skills. She was obvious adept at playing to her audience. This time the audience was well-prepared and managed not to fell for her lies.

“Matthew Keller? That’s interesting.” June smiled. Somewhere deep inside Vivien was antsy. But she decided that it couldn’t be about Danny’s kidnapping. No way. She was safe. The crime was perfect.  She would enjoy a drink to celebrate her inheritance.

“But could you please tell me what it’s all about?”

June smiled.

“Dear, don’t you worry. We need to ask some more questions before we can talk in detail about the inheritance. If you don’t want to answer them, we wouldn’t be able to continue. But it’s your decision.” June asked.

“No, go on.”

“If you decide to answer, I needed honest replies. No cheating.”

“No lies. I promise.” Vivien was given a statement to sign saying that she was here of her own free will and that she promised to tell truth and could be sued for false answers. She gladly did it.

“Ok. Let’s start then. The list is not long and we will start with some pictures. ” Mozzie took over.

“Could you tell me who is in each of them?” There were four different photos – each of them pictured Danny aka Neal – a photo from his school yearbook, one from Ellen’s file, a prison mug shot, and a recent photo.

“It’s Danny Bennett. My son. Or Neal Caffrey – he changed his name a while ago.”

“And all of them picture the same person?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Did you raise the man in the photos?”

“Yes. I did.”

“Great. What’s the true date of his birthday? The birthdate of the man in the photographs to be clarified if necessary.” Mozzie pretended reading.

“Pardon?”

“I’m sorry – those questions don’t make much sense to me. I just have to get through them.”

It wasn’t possible, was it? After so many years… No paper trail. Nothing…DNA? If his parents were alive, if somebody somehow connected him… Only two people apart from her knew about the kidnapping – her husband and her brother. Even Keller didn’t know about it – they had  changed his name and the date of his birth. Well, the date Danny knew as his birthday. During his childhood, it took some convincing to pass him as older, but with the previous serious illness people tended to accept his small stature. Child and cancer closed many mouths. Well, Ellen Parker tried to snoop around – but it didn’t end up well for her. Vivien remembered the true date – how she could forget? But she didn’t dare say that.

“September 20, 1992.”

Mozzie closed the file and with a heavy sighed he looked at June.

“It’s not her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, your answer doesn’t match the one given in my instructions here. I’m sorry Mrs Bennett, for all of this …But apparently you’re not your husband’s heir…” Vivien chastised herself afterwards – it was the very moment she should have gotten up and walked away. But she stayed.

“How about August 1, 1994.” She said reluctantly.

“That matches.” Mozzie and June smiled.

“What was Danny’s most favorite toy?”

“A lion.”

“Could you describe it?” Mozzie asked, pretending to be immersed in the file.

“Ugly, dirty, worn out.”

“Any specifics?” The short man asked in a worried tone.

“Yes. A leaf? Or something with initials DB.”  Mozzie smiled with relief.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” June left, called the FBI and told them that all was done according to the script. When she came back, her tone changed. Drastically. She wasn’t a nice old lady anymore.

“The pictures you identified are not of _your_ son. They are of Daniel Brooks who now uses the name Neal Caffrey. Danny was kidnapped from the hospital at a very young age by your husband. He suffered from years of abuse and neglect. And you were an accomplice and predator. Yes, Neal did some time but he shouldn’t have.” Vivien was rendered speechless.

“That’s your inheritance – you will pay for yours and your husband’s sins, you monster.” Mozzie said.

“We will tell you what we are going to do. We will walk together to the FBI Office and then you will confess and sign the deal you will be offered.” June informed her.

“I don’t think so.”

“I suggest you think about it carefully.”

“Good bye…” Vivien tried to stand up.

 “You're out of options here. The FBI waits next door, downstairs, around the corner – they covered all the exits. But if you go to them on your own,it will be beneficial for you. They might offer you a deal if you do that. So sit down. Now. ”June pushed her down.

“Why should I go anywhere? You don’t have anything to charge me with… Statute of limitations…”

“Not on a kidnapping of a minor… And we have plenty of proof.” Mozzie showed her one of the bugs. Vivien sat down trembling. 

“I will tell you the benefits of the deal. If I were you, I would accept it. Maybe the information about your crimes wouldn’t be shared with the other inmates. Maybe you would not enter prison as a child kidnapper and abuser. Maybe…And I think you can use your imagination about what might happen to such a monster in prison. Full of mothers who cry for their children growing up without them. Full of anger, bitterness, unmonitored areas. Outnumbered staff. With the deal maybe you would be allowed to make up your own story. … Neal’s parents have been in law enforcement for generations – at least his dad. His mum – well, she can play dirty, too.” June whispered the last part while watching Vivien closely. Hiring a hitman to take Vivien out wasn’t a problem for the older lady – she just thought that it would be too easy.

Vivien – as with many abusers using his own power over the weak  – deep inside was a coward. She would try to bark – but wasn’t able to bite anyone.

“What do I have to do?”

“Don’t worry. We will walk you each step of the way. We are just two concerned citizens.” They drove to the FBI Office, got passes and went up to the 21st floor.

Peter almost fell off the stairs when in the late afternoon Vivien Adler-Bennett walked into the office with Mozzie and June on either side. Hughes emerged from his office.

“Agent Burke, Agent Hughes, this lady would like to tell you something.” June stated.

Peter eyed the scene before him suspiciously. Vivien hadn’t aged nicely – probably her love for strong beverages and time spent on the streets had something to do with that. But she must have been really pretty back in the day.

Hughes asked, “Ma’am, why are you here?”

“I’d like to confess to a crime, sir.” She answered politely. Peter’s jaw dropped.

“I think that the interrogation room at the end of the corridor is available.” Taking these words as an order, one of the female junior agents led Vivien there. June handed some tapes to Hughes who just nodded and gave them to another agent to check and process.

“We will wait by the coffee machine.” June said dragging a reluctant Mozzie with her.

“What the hell just happened here?” Peter asked Hughes.

An agent from another division had just entered the bullpen. Hughes nodded and the young man went in the direction of the interrogation room.

The older agent, answered,  “You’ll find out soon enough. Don’t worry. I called Judge Brooks and told him to stay away from here – so I expect him to come and try to enter. He already knew about the arrest in St Louis – so he would find out soon about Vivien in New York – news like that travels fast. Agent Smith has a special task related to that.”Hughes pointed towards the agent who just disappeared around the corner.

Agent Smith had been ‘borrowed’ from the Violent Crimes Division. He wasn’t picked because of his career or experience. He was asked to join the interrogation because of his appearance and strength – his athletic built, his 6 foot 7 inches and over 220 pounds. His only task was to prevent Judge Brooks from entering the interrogation room. Smith was a father himself to lovely twins and as a father he knew well the deep, natural instinct to protect the young ones, especially your own blood. He could only imagine what he would do if she were the kidnapper of his kid.

“Ok. Let’s start the show. None of you enter the room until I say so. That’s an order. ” Hughes entered the room and sat at the table across from Vivien and started the recorder, although a video camera was already operating from the corner near the ceiling.

“Ma’am, could you state your name?”

“Vivien Adler-Bennett.” Hughes read her Miranda warning and Vivien waived her right to have a lawyer. Then he asked her about the crime.

“I helped to kidnap a child.” During the ride to the FBI, outside the reach of the bugs and tapes, June described in gory detail what would happen if she tried to outsmart them. One lie – and the whole prison would know about Vivien’s crimes. The older lady made it clear that pain and humiliation would be the goal, not Vivien’s death. She explained that inside or outside the law, it really didn’t matter. Money didn’t matter, either. Vivien had hurt Neal – who was dear to June’s heart. Crimes like that don’t get forgiven.

And June could tell a story right.

“Go on.”

“How many times had you tried to kidnap a child? Hughes asked.

She explained that when her son passed away, she and her husband were desperate and needed money. So they tried to find a replacement – twice they almost got caught but they managed the third time.  

“Ok. We have some additional charges. Conspiracy to commit the murder of Ellen Parker.”

“I didn’t do anything! She was my husband’s lover! It was him!” Vivien shouted. She realized that she hadn’t asked for anything in return – she had just walked into the lion’s den. She didn’t even know the details of the deal.

“Are you sure? Or maybe she wanted to do something about your son and how badly you treated him?”

“What? Am I a child abuser now? Ok – I might have spanked him more than once but he is an adult now and who cares…?” She was re-gaining her confidence. Stupid cops. Stupid agents. Stupid her.

“I do.”

“So what – child abuse and neglect – even if the charges were true, they would be outdated! Murder? C’mon – my husband was found guilty!”

“Fraud. You kidnapped a child to use money from your son’s inheritance. Illegally. Your son was already dead but your husband’s aunt didn’t want to share her inheritance with you – she wanted to insure your son’s future. You took a child in order to have a son who would inherit. The aunt passed away not long after the kidnapping.”

Years ago Vivien would have been able to con the agent – play the sympathy, madness, grief-stricken card. But she couldn’t to do it anymore – she tried to stop talking but couldn’t. The dam burst – and her anger got the better of her. She knew that she was prone to getting frustrated and violent – but for years she vented the bad emotions on Neal or quieted them with alcohol – she managed to keep it civil in front of others. Apparently, she’d lost that skill too. She might tell everyone that she quit drinking. She did – she quit drinking as much ― but wines and spirits were the part of her daily routine and now she was succumbing to some kind of withdrawal.

 “Oh! Is that how you found out about the kidnapping! My son came to the FBI to rat on his mom! Yes – I used that money. Yes – it wasn’t legal. Yes – I did it. Danny aka Neal a snitch now… He probably tried to talk his way out of trouble. He always was good at sweet talking! I hope he rots in jail! I bet some people will find him… you know… attractive… He was nothing but trouble all his life! I should have killed him, not kept him! I tell you what - I bet the kid’s parents got past their grief many years ago. I’m sure they were better off without him. He’s a criminal. Nothing more.” 

Hughes could imagine the rage engendered by words. He didn’t know that Judge Brooks had arrived and had listened to the last few moments of her diatribe against Neal and tried – as expected – to enter the room.

“Let me in! I won’t let her talk about my son that way!” Agent Smith waved Peter off and tried to reason with Neal’s father. Well, his iron grip helped too.

“Sir, no. I can’t imagine your pain, your anger and your determination. But she is worthless. We will deal with her. As a father I know what you want to do. But my job is to make sure you don’t do it. Your son is the important one – don’t forget it. He just found his dad – don’t let your actions take you away from him.” The last sentence was spoken in a calm, soft voice. It took some time but Brooks finally backed off.

“Thank you. And sorry. ” He whispered.

“Are you sure you want to hear all this?” Peter asked.

“I should.”

“No. You should be at home getting some sleep. Agent Smith will drive you there. All of this is being recorded. You can watch it later if you still want to.” Peter assured him. Brooks was at a bit of a loss.

“Let’s go, sir. Your son will need you well-rested.” Judge Brooks reluctantly let himself be driven home.

“Sometimes I feel I’m useless as a father…Sometimes I don’t think he even wants me around.” He told Agent Smith during the ride.

“You’re not useless – but sometimes you’ll feel that way. When your child catches a cold, falls downs and scrapes a knee – many, many things cause a father to feel helpless. And then the kid comes to you to get some help doing something and you’re not useless anymore.” Then the agent sighed. It wasn’t his business, but he saw enough victims of abuse to know a thing or two about their behavior.

 “I don’t know the whole story but I gathered enough to know that he may have problems with trusting you and your wife because of the way he was treated after his kidnapping. Whenever you’re close to him, talk to him, make sure he is aware of your intentions – try not to make any sudden moves. Remember that sometimes he might be scared because of things like smells or noises that you wouldn’t even notice. Sometimes he won’t be able to voice it. All you can do is be there for him.”

“Thank you.” 

“And one more thing – he might want to meet that lady. I know that it doesn’t sound like a good idea especially now, but it might give him closure.” The judge nodded. If it were for his decision, he wouldn’t let Neal anywhere near that bitch. But the kid had the right to make his own decision.

Back in the interrogation room, Hughes told Vivien, “You took the wrong child, Mrs. Bennett. His parents didn’t forget, nor they will forgive. And despite all you did to injure him – the child you kidnapped is not a criminal. He’s a bright young man. Smart and confident. And now he has his mum and dad back. Ready to support him and ready to hunt down the monsters who caused so much pain. Think about it. I will be back with a deal. And if I were you, I would think very hard about accepting it.”

After some time Hughes came back in with a federal prosecutor and a deal.

“The deal we are offering is generous. Twenty years in a maximum-security prison with no parole. Think about it.” They left.  Hughes joined his agents.

“I didn’t think such a technique was taught at Quantico.” Peter commented. Hughes smiled.

After some time Vivien said loudly,  “Ok. Let’s bargain here. I can give you some information about Mathew Keller. He’s a conman. I can try to contact him for you…”

“Can you talk with the dead?” Hughes asked re-entering the room.

“No...what…?”

“He’s dead. “ He let the words sink in.

“Mrs. Bennett, read the deal. I’ll be right back. I’ve got to thank the nice old lady who helped to capture you,” the agent added, reminding Vivien about June and her capable hands.

 After a while, she accepted the inevitable.

“I’ll take the deal. But how did you find out?”

Hughes entered the room.

“Did you think it was the 'perfect crime'? Things like that don’t exist. We found out because we are very good at what we do.”

“It took you some time…” She added, trying to unnerve Hughes.

“Better late than never.”

It was late in the evening when everything was processed.

“Reese, why didn’t you let me in? Don’t you trust me?” Peter asked when they met for drinks.

“I do. You have to understand that we’re lucky it ended this way. So many things could have gone south. We didn’t do everything by the book – not entirely. We didn’t break the law, but we might have bent it. You’re young, you have a career ahead of you.  I’m about to retire in a year or two… “

“I can’t believe you were willing to sacrifice your career for Neal.”

“We might try to sell ourselves some comfort – that we did everything we were supposed to. And yes – we did, legally. But I wish I could turn back time and push him during that first interrogation. Save him. I didn’t and I can’t. It was the least I could do.”

Peter nodded.

Judge Brooks couldn’t thank them enough for what they had done. They decided to tell Neal. There was one small problem, though. As predicted, the kid wanted to meet with Vivien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing the monster....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can apologize enough for the wait... but I can't promise to be quicker in the future... I'll try... but RL...
> 
> Ayam improved this chapter a lot! She wrote some very valuable sentences - and I can't thank her enough! Hugs! 
> 
> I used one quote from E. Hemingway if I'm not mistaken ('‘Let him think that I am more man than I am and I will be so.’)
> 
> All mistakes are mine and sorry for them... 
> 
> Thanks for kudos, reviews, comments!!!

“Agent Hughes, what happened during the meeting of Mr Caffrey and Mrs Bennett?”

Hughes sighed. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have let Neal near Vivien – but that kind of overprotectiveness would have been selfish. Deep inside, the agent understood that the kid wanted and probably needed to face the monster – to look her in the eye and tell that he survived, that he won, that he beat her.

“I could tell you what didn’t happen – the miracle.” Hughes replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was naïve – I hoped that Neal would receive an apology, good luck wishes, any sort of good will. Of course, he didn’t.”

“Do you think that he found closure at least?” The agent hesitated for a moment. He knew that the encounter wasn’t the last step of the healing process – rather the first one.

“I think so. I hope so.”

“And his new family…”

“Yes.”

“So the miracle did happen.” Hughes smiled. Well, maybe…

“Sort of.”

*****

When Neal woke up and found Miguel sitting next to his bed with a grim expression watching his phone almost continuously, he knew that something had happened or was about to. The kid knew that the cook was the easiest target for finding the truth – he was barely able to keep his emotions on a leash and he couldn’t lie. June and Mozzie were at the top of the class at conning, and Peter wasn’t bad either. Miguel was far behind them. At least the last time Neal checked.

“Hi. Where is June?” Neal asked. June told him that there was something that needed her attention and she promised to be back but it didn’t ease the kid’s worries. Hearing that she was fine, seeing her being unharmed helped. But only for a moment and that had already passed.

“Good to see you too. June needed some time off. Am I not a good replacement?”

“You are. But you look like something bad happened…” Apparently Miguel had been trained by June and Mozzie because he wasn’t about to give in and say what was going on. He inexpertly tried to change the subject. 

“I tell you what bad happened! You’re here over a week. I’ve been cooking, your mum and the other lady – the Suit’s wife – too. And guess what? The scarecrow – meaning you – gained a whole pound.”

The cook’s voice was angry and full of the dramatic. Neal knew that he was weighed in case the dosage of his medicine had to be adjusted. He suspected though that his lack of progress in this field was just a smoke screen to steer the conversation away from some other matter.

“That’s great, isn’t it? It’s one pound fewer to gain back!” He answered back.

“A pound! You will be in serious trouble if you keep that pace.” Miguel threatened.

Neal heard the word trouble and something clicked in his mind. Before he could think twice, he blurted out,  “June is in trouble for shooting Keller, isn’t she?”  

The cook had heard that Neal had a hard time believing that his beloved landlady wasn’t facing any repercussions for her actions. And now it hurt him to see the kid so scared and so vulnerable – and above all not trusting in the possibility of a happy ending.

“Neal, at least twice June herself told you that she is not in any trouble. If you have problems with remembering that, I guess that we should be worried, hmm? Maybe I’ll ask the doctor to check you over again.” Miguel added, but his tone was light. He tried to make Neal relax by teasing him. For a while the kid pondered his friend’s words and his own behavior, and then he smiled.

“I do remember” He said, adding in whisper, “But it’s hard to believe that some good things actually happen.” Miguel squeezed Neal’s hand.

“I bet. Kiddo, I don’t know what’s going on in that brilliant brain of yours but we won’t hurt you, nobody is in trouble and we all do love you. The only thing that matters right now is getting you all better.” The cook waited a bit for the response. Neal rationally understood what he said – what they all said. But brain and emotions did not always agree, especially lately.

After a while the kid replied,  “I know. Miguel, it’s just that I don’t know what to do… Where should I go?”

“Do you want to stay at your parents’?” The kid hesitated for a moment. He had dreamt of a loving family and now that he had one he was scared. Maybe it was all a dream and when he woke up he would be back to grim reality? Experience had taught him to distrust things that looked too good.

“I…think…I’d like to try…” Neal wanted nothing more than to see his parents’ house, to find out more about his family, maybe to have a look at his old room, to see what it felt like to wake up to someone asking you with love _How did you sleep, son_.

“Then do it.” Miguel knew that it was easier said than done.

“What if I’m not the kid they dreamt of, they wanted…”

“Neal, you had a bad childhood, had to protect other people when you were far too young. Then you were sent to a prison full of monsters, started working with the FBI as their criminal consultant – and I know that you weren’t always treated fairly. You were hurt repeatedly. Of course your parents didn’t want that kind of future for you. They wanted to protect you from all the bad things. Even before you were born, they dreamt of happiness and success for you. Maybe they thought you would become a lawyer or a doctor or a singer or an actor…”

Neal interrupted abruptly, saying in a shaky voice, “You see – nobody wants a criminal. And even if my criminal past could be erased, I’m nobody…I’m a drop-out…I can get a minimum wage job if I’m lucky…”

“Hey, Neal stop right here. You’re a great young man. Education? That can be fixed. Talent like yours? That’s  not given out  free on street corners.”

“But…”

“But what? What do you want to hear? That your parents won’t love you, would abandon you? That they’re waiting for an excuse to do so? Not gonna happen. Keep one thing in mind – you survived your kidnapping, you survived prison, the anklet. Don’t give up now! Don’t let the Bennetts win, kiddo…”

Miguel wasn’t sure if his strategy hadn’t caused more harm especially when Neal became quiet and tears were shining in the kid’s too blue eyes.

After a while, Neal whispered, “Thanks.”

“Get some rest. Big day tomorrow.” Miguel wasn’t naïve – he knew that it would take more convincing to re-unite Neal and his parents.

Neal woke up some time later, and endured another physical therapy session that took a lot out of him.

“You’re doing well,” the therapist told him.

“I hate being so tired,” he replied, falling asleep again and sleeping for several hours.

June and the Brookses arrived in the early evening.

“How is he?” Ann asked Miguel.

“Physically – better.”

“But…” The judge asked.

“But he doesn’t know what to do. He wants to stay with you but he thinks that you don’t want a criminal for a son. Not that he _is_ one…”

“Does he really want to stay with us?” Ann asked with much hope in her voice.

“Yes. But he’s Neal – don’t expect that he’ll tell you that. And he figured out that something was off – that something was going on. I hope I managed to shift his attention – but he will still ask questions. He is afraid that somebody is or would be in trouble for some reason.” Miguel summed up the day. The cook  already knew about the arrest and the deal.

“Good luck.” He said on his way out.

“What are we going to do?” Ann asked June.

“Don’t worry about his staying with you – I’ll convince him. About Vivien… Neal has a problem believing people’s intentions – I would say we had to tell him the truth. If we lie to him now and he finds out later – and he will, the fragile thread of trust between him and us will be severed.” June explained. The trio talked in a low voice for some time until a night nurse entered the room with warmed-up food and pills.

“Do we have to wake him up? He is sleeping so peacefully…” Ann asked her.

“I’m afraid so. As you can see, we disconnected the IV and switched him to oral medication. He should eat something and take his pills.”

June moved over to the bedside and took Neal’s hand in both of hers. “Neal, darling, open your eyes…” June cajoled.

“Sweetie, I have a pineapple smoothie for you. C’mon.” Ann added, from the other side of the bed.

It took Neal a while  before he was fully awake. He blinked for some time before he focused on his visitors.

“Hi.” He said in a sleepy voice.

“Hi.” The chorus replied. Neal obediently ate, and took his pills. He knew that they probably wanted to know his decision about where he wanted to stay, but he didn’t know how to admit that he would like to try going home with his parents. June took the matter into her own hands.

 “Miguel told me that you had been worried about me…Neal, we talked about it. I’m not in trouble.”

“But something was going on, I know that!”

“Nothing bad and I promise we will tell you everything. But first we have to discuss your discharge. I know that all the papers are ready and you will be discharged first thing in the morning. And you will go to Ann and Michael’s place. No argument here!” June said and before Neal could protest, she continued,  “If you don’t like it there, if you feel that it’s too much, you will go back to my place. But you have to give it a try.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble…” Neal told nobody in particular.

“Here we go again. You’re not causing anything but joy. I know you’re afraid, but so are your parents. If you don’t try now it won’t get any easier later. You have to try, ok?”

“Ok…”

“Thank you.” Ann stood up and gently hugged Neal.

“Did you just thank _me_ for taking me to your place?” The kid asked, surprised.

“Well, I did. It’s more than I dreamt of.”

“What if you don’t like my being there?”

Ann chuckled.

“I don’t think that is possible. If you don’t like it there, though, we will drive you back to June’s. Ok?” Neal nodded.

“We have a cat and a dog living with us but if you don’t like animals…” Ann started.

“No! It’s ok. Of course they can stay.” Neal was quick to answer.

His dad bent towards him and added in not very subtle manner, “Tell her that you don’t like cats, please…”

Neal looked at his parents, even more surprised.

“Nice try! I know that you and Phoenix don’t get along but that was just low…” Ann answered back, pretending to be deeply offended with her husband.

Neal tried to choke back laughter. To no avail.

The atmosphere in the room became light – and June smiled looking at the family and the banter between them.

“What has Phoenix done?” Neal asked.

“Oh, nothing! She’s the sweetest cat in the world!” Ann tried.

It only resulted in Michael’s snorting, “But I won’t come to the rescue when she sleeps on your pillow. Or wakes you up in the middle of night because she’s suddenly hungry. Or demands attention when you’re working. You will be on your own, buddy! I warned you!”

It made Neal laugh even harder. He knew that his dad didn’t mean it and probably loved the cat but the way he said these words was just hilarious. And then… then he realized that he didn’t remember having good times with the Bennetts. That it was almost unreal…

So he stopped laughing, afraid that soon the charm would be broken. Besides, something must have happened. Miguel was too distracted.

“Ok. I’ll go with you but I need to know what happened today.” He asked and to his surprise everyone nodded.

“You have the right to know.” June explained with Michael’s and Ann’s help the events of the day. At first Neal didn’t take the news all that well. He was trying his best to cover up how shaken and surprised he felt but he was too weak and June knew him too well. He was getting paler and paler and they thought that maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to inform him. June wanted to stop but he pleaded for them to continue. Besides, what was the point in stopping now… the milk was spilled.

But then he smiled, too, because June was great at telling stories and all in all - it was a great con. He would have been proud to pull that con himself to be honest. And then…The realization hit him – they did it for him. To protect him, to save him. So they must think he was worth protecting, worth saving. Rationally he knew that he was loved and valued but truth be told he really didn’t believe it. He thought that he needed to prove it over and over… Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he could start believing in himself…No… Not until he faced the monster who told him how pathetic he was, who hit him because he was around and couldn’t hit back, who watched him cry and laughed at him. He needed to look her in the eye and tell her, _I survived, I’m alive, I’m strong, I’m loved._

“I want to see her.” Neal answered in a serious tone.

“We will go to prison and you can see her.” The judge said. Nobody expected the kid’s reaction. Neal heard only the one word he dreaded the most. He  became panicked, eyes wide, breathing irregularly. His father understood in a instant that the idea of walking back into a prison paralyzed his son with fear. Neal was on the verge of hyperventilating so the judge took the kid’s face in his hands, locked eyes with his son and said in a soft voice.

“Neal, calm down. I get it, son. No prison. Don’t worry, we will figure something out. What about an FBI office? I think that can be arranged." Neal nodded.

"Ok. I promise I will be with you each step of the way.” The FBI office was a good idea, so the kid calmed down but didn’t give up.

 “I want to see her now.”

“Son, it’s late in the evening. You’re still in the hospital.” Michael tried to reason.

“But they will discharge me tomorrow. I can see her then!” Neal was adamant.

“I’m not saying no – but we’ll ask Dr Cheng, and we also need to see if it’s possible from the legal point of view,” the judge answered, hoping to postpone the encounter.

“I want to meet with her tomorrow. There is a room on the 21st floor. Peter could let us use it…”

“I’ll see what can be done,” Michael said in a diplomatic manner. He knew that he would move heaven and earth to make it happen – even against his better judgment, when his son added in such a child-like voice, “I want to see her, forget about her and never talk about her again. I don’t think I can wait…”

“Shh, don’t worry about it. We will figure it out. You will meet with her and then we will finally go home.” Ann said. She knew – they all knew – that not talking about it and not remembering wouldn’t be possible but why not pretend otherwise? They sat in silence for a moment.

“I’m tired.” Neal wasn’t that tired but he simply wanted to avoid any possible conversations.

“Close your eyes. We will watch over you,” his mom added and re-arranged the blankets. They all knew that the kid was playing possum but decided not to call him on it. They needed to talk so June and Michael left after some time.

“I can’t imagine him facing her right now… We both saw her. We heard what she said – the way she tried to intimidate everyone…Neal – he barely keeps it together…” June sighed. The judge was right – letting Neal see her was like sending a lamb into the lion’s den. But…

“But he’s Neal… When we met for the first time I didn’t suspect that he was unwell until he collapsed – we talked, he was the perfect gentleman with a head injury as I found out later… A couple days ago, when they tried to transfer him to prison, he managed to walk out of here, cuffed and probably terrified. He smiled reassuringly at me! When you interrupted the to trip and he was back here vomiting and shaking… The doctors had to put him on oxygen... What I’m trying to tell it that your son is good at pretending. He will put up a show. But then he will collapse. He will need you to catch him when he does. We can’t ban the meeting. We can only be there for him afterwards.”

Michael nodded. “Ok.” The judge made some calls and arranged time and the location of the meeting with Peter’s and Hughes assistance. They decided to use one of the FBI offices. Hughes suggested an interrogation room with an office nearby.

“We’ll clear the area – you’ll have as much time as you need. The kitchenette and the sofa are in the room, the bathroom adjoining. If you need a private access to the parking lot, that can happen too.” The agent said. He also cleared Peter for staying with Neal and Michael  _as long as it takes._

The night passed quietly. The Brookses left Neal in the capable hands of June around midnight and decided to come back around 9:00 the next morning to meet with Neal's doctor and to deal with the paperwork.

In the morning Dr Cheng wasn’t very pleased when he was informed about Neal’s ideas.

“I’ve known him long enough not to try to change his mind. But I’m fairly sure he would need medical attention after the meeting.” Seeing terrified looks on the faces of the Brookses, the doctor continued quickly.

“Not necessarily a trip to ER but if I were you I would watch him carefully for reactions. If possible, appraise your family doctor of the situation. If he becomes nauseated and can’t keep his antibiotics down, Neal might need an IV with prescribed drugs and anti-emetics. Let’s postpone the physical therapy until Monday – it will give him a weekend to rest.”

“Thank you.”

“Bring him in if he feels worse. Everything else is in the discharge instructions,” Dr Cheng added, handing them a sheaf of paperwork. Ann promised to look very closely into them as soon as she got home.

By the time they were done with the red tape, Neal was dressed and waiting to be picked up. June must have wakened her tailor in the middle of night because Neal’s attire was perfect. The kid had lost a lot of weight but the suit didn’t show that. A perfect mask. His hair was cut. Another detail of the perfect mask.

“You’re such a beautiful young man!” Ann couldn’t help herself. If it weren’t for Neal’s fading bruises almost completely covered by a gentle make-up, the sling and slight limp, nobody would suspect what he had been through. He smiled broadly – but the smile though blinding didn’t reach his eyes. He looked healthier – his mom thought that he looked better than just the night before. Michael told her about his conversation with June – and they knew that it was a con his son was pulling. Hopefully, the last one.

When the Brookses discussed the day’s schedule earlier, Ann told her husband that she had decided to go home after the discharge.

“I will be waiting for you but I don’t want to do something I will regret later. Take care of him.” She told her husband.

“I will.”

In the room, Michael asked,

“Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes!” Neal told him.

“Ok. Let’s go.” Ann pushed the wheelchair. Michael took Neal’s bags.

“Sweetie, I’ll go home and you will go… and see her. Remember you can stop at any moment.”

“I know. And I don’t.”

“I love you so much.” She added, kissed him goodbye and looked at them driving away. She was so afraid that it would be too much for him. But she understood him...

The drive was silent. When Jones and Diana along with Peter and Hughes greeted them at the entrance, Neal was smiling, joking.

“I have to bake you some cupcakes…” Diana added.

“And burn half of the city?”

“I’m not that bad!”

“I beg to differ…” Jones replied adding, “Though you could use some fat, man…”

“Summer’s coming. I have to look good on the beach. So no need.” Neal tried to joke.

 “This time I beg to differ…” Diana supplied.

They all exchanged worried glances, not buying his confidence and almost automatic ‘I-am-fine’ replies.

“Why aren’t we going to the 21st floor?” Neal asked.

“Courtesy of our colleagues. There is a room ready on the 6th floor.” Peter replied.

“Could I stop by and say hello to everyone?” Neal asked.

Before anyone could reply, Hughes said, “Good idea. I feel tempted by all those goodies on your desk. I confiscated the alcohol, though.”

“Ok.” Neal laughed. There were hellos and take care and don’t lose any more weight. Neal commented that he was surprised that his desk hadn’t been taken by some intern or someone needing space.

“I thought that you might need it…” Hughes shook his head.

“I need you to take all these sweets out of my sight. I put on weight by just looking at them.” Hughes joked.

“With all due respect, sir. You’re skin and bone. You could use some calories yourself, sir… I can share…”

Hughes patted his back and laughed.

“No need, Caffrey. No need.”

After allowing a few minutes of socializing with well-wishers, Hughes asked, “Ok. Ready to face her?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

“If you need assistance at any point…”

“I know, sir. Thank you.”

The used the elevator to the 6th floor. Agent Smith led the way. Vivien was already in the interrogation room, this time dressed in an orange jumpsuit and cuffed. Neal looked through the one way observation window.

“Let’s get started.” He said, and entered.

“Hello, MOM.” Neal said with Just the right measure of sarcasm in his voice.

“Hello, Neal. Or should I say Danny.” She quickly took in his appearance, with limp and sling and general thinness, and added, sarcastically, “What the hell happened to you? You look even better than while in my care.” 

“Really?” Neal chuckled bitterly lowering himself into a chair.

“What do you want? Did you miss me?”  She said with a sneer.

The kid smiled kindly before answering.

“No. I didn’t. I came to say goodbye.”

Her manner changed abruptly to obsequious and fawning.

“Oh, thank you…It means a lot… Remember, son, I tried to raise you to be a good citizen…I didn’t want you to end up a criminal… But look at you – your clothes…I guess my up-bringing paid off… And now… now…You should help me… Please… I won’t survive prison…Maybe you can get me a better lawyer… Maybe we can nullify the deal… I can’t…go... there… Son,  I always loved you.”

Peter and the judge looked at the performance, stunned and shocked. They also watched Neal. He looked calm and relaxed. After a moment, he started laughing.

“Well, I will try to reach the Academy – that monologue should give you a place in the short list of nominees! Maybe you could add some tears? It would make your performance more believable…”

Her groveling became self-pitying. “… you wanted to see your mom suffering! You always were cruel! I did everything I could…”

“That’s good… Keep going… We can make a video. I can search for some movie festivals for inmates…”

Vivien changed in an instant.  The unctuous pleader disappeared, and in her place a hard-eyed snake, dripping venom.  

“I should have killed you the moment we cashed the check. Or maybe even sooner. The moment that old bat saw you, you almost blew it – crying, calling for mommy and daddy. Thank God she bought that you were delirious after chemo. Side effects. Ending you– it wouldn’t have been hard. But no – James had to tell his buddies from the department that we were coming with him to St Louis. So I was stuck. I had to leave you alive.  More or less. … ”

“Very thoughtful of you…” Another bit of sarcasm.

“Why are you here? What do you want from me? Your buddies have already managed to screw me over.”

“As I said before – I came to say goodbye.”

“You might have a nice suit and shiny shoes but deep inside you’re still a terrified boy. Will dad get angry? Or maybe mummy?”  She mimicked a frightened child.  “I will be good… I’m sorry… Don’t hurt me, please…”

She laughed derisively.  “You begged! You were so miserable…so pathetic… I loved to make you scream…Do your friends know how damaged you are? Beyond redemption and beyond repair. Sorry. Nothing can be done. Did you tell them what could be done to such a pretty boy in prison? That’s one thing I regret – I lost a small fortune not renting you out. Well, I can’t turn back time…And now…your parents found you – how sweet. They will lock you in an asylum or send you away. Nobody wants damaged goods…Or maybe they will just pick up where I left off…happy thought…maybe they will correct my mistake.”

Agent Smith’s strength and wisdom to stay came in handy – the agent had to hold Michael outside the interrogation room.

“I’m gonna kill her with my bare hands.”

“No. You won’t. You will take Neal home afterwards and you will help him heal.”

Neal didn’t show any reaction – his stare was casual, his body relaxed. Peter knew that it was a mask – he saw the signs. Little trembling in Neal’s calves. Goose bumps on the kid’s neck. Almost undecipherable.

“They will correct your mistake.”

“I told you so!”

“But not in the way you think. They will love me, cherish me, protect me. My dad is waiting for me outside – I bet they had \ to stop him from entering the room and dealing with you himself. My mom is home preparing food for me. She’s only known me a couple of days but she’s already learned what I like and what I don’t. I have good friends who will watch over me and check on me, ready to give me another place to live if I want. No questions asked.”

“Such a happy fake family…”

“We’re not fake. We are a real family. We will learn each other… my dad is a judge, my mum is an artist. I have a cat and a dog…” There was so much pride in Neal’s voice when he described his family that Michael had to choke back a sob.

“You will destroy them… Liked you did with Ellen Parker, Kate…”

“No. I didn’t destroy anyone. You and James killed Ellen. Kate died because she tried to save me as I tried to save her.” After a moment, he added,

 “You know, when I was little, I used to wonder what I had done to make you hate me so.  When I got older, I realized that it wasn’t anything I had done.  You were just filled with hate and took it out on a little kid who couldn’t fight back. Then for a while I wondered what could make a person so miserable, so hate-filled.  Despite everything you did to me, I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone, certainly not a helpless child, in fact, not even you. I don’t think of you often, but now I won’t think of you at all I have a bright future to look forward to. And you will spend the rest of your life in a jail cell, with other miserable people. What a waste your life has been.”

“You can sell yourself as many lies as you want.”

“They are not lies. In a minute I will walk out of here free of my past, of any worries. And you… you will never ever have a chance to breathe the scent of wet soil or garden flowers… to see the sky late at night…to sit down and drink a cup of coffee in one of the cafes…So good bye Vivien. And keep in mind…”

Neal stood up and bent towards her. For a moment both Peter and Michael thought – one terrifying thought creeping in the back of both their minds– that he would do something reckless… stupid… He didn’t. He just said, his tone strong and confident, “Despite your best efforts to destroy me, I only became stronger.”

“Such a cliché... ” Vivien snarled.

“Here’s another: ‘Let him think that I am more man than I am and I will be so.’”  They will let me flourish and I will flourish. And you will rot in prison. Good bye.”

Neal left not even looking back. He managed to smile at his dad and Peter standing outside in a stupor.

“All done.”  He said casually. Peter was the first to awaken from his daze. He had known Neal longer – he recognized the signs. The kid was pale, his skin cold to the touch and he was trembling slightly. He knew that they didn’t have much time.

“Ok. Here we go.” He maneuvered the kid between him and his father leading the trio to the private office.

“Ok, kiddo. Let’s sit down here for a while.” They managed to sit down and Neal was grateful because he had started feeling woozy. The world began spinning so he just closed his eyes. He was cold and hot at once but tried to keep his mask.

“I’m fine.” He muttered through gritted teeth. His old friend nausea decided to visit and Neal was afraid that his breakfast would make a re-appearance soon.  All the fears…all the bad memories were so fresh, so vivid, so just-around-the-corner…

“You’re safe. You’ll be ok.” And more soothing nonsense coming from his father and Peter in a string of reassuring words and touches.

Strong hands helped him bend over his knees, a cold cloth was placed on his neck, a warm, soft fleece blanket was draped over him. The same strong hands were drawing circles on his back.

Time didn’t mean a thing. He couldn’t tell if hours or only mere minutes passed.

He felt…safe…loved…valued.

He finally decided he could sit upright. Strong hands supported his back, took away the cloth and draped the blanket more firmly. Nausea in retreat, he dared to open his eyes.

“Do you want something to drink?” He realized he felt parched, his mouth dry. He gave a nod.

“Ginger ale? Water? Tea?” Another nod hopefully seconding the ginger ale proposition. Peter poured in into glass, the beverage cold and sweet. Tentatively Neal took a sip. It tasted good and soothed his oversensitive stomach.

“Dizzy?” He shook his head. Neither Peter, nor his father rushed him. He drank the rest and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think of Vivien – he wasn’t that naïve to believe that his past was a closed book – but he wanted to force himself to think of his mom smiling at him, his dad trying to bribe him into the scheme against the poor cat. He opened his eyes.

“Is she gone?”

“Yes. She’s on her way back to prison.”

“Can we go out of here, please…”

“Let’s go home, son…” Neal gave his father a nod and a soft smile.

“Ok.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal and his new home...

“Agent Hughes, so you just let the Brookses take Neal? No questions asked?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way. Let’s say that we stayed close by.” The agent smiled.

*****

“Let’s go home.” Neal repeated. Michael took the blanket, folded it then he produced a nice warm jacket almost out of thin air.

“Ok. Let’s put it on and we’re ready to go.” The judge hoped that it would provide enough warmth and comfort.

Hughes cleared the gateway so it didn’t take long for the trio to leave the parking lot.

During the ride Neal was silent. It wasn’t comfortable but both Peter and Michael respected the kid’s need to stay quiet, probably lost in his own thoughts. The day – although it was still early afternoon – had been long and tiring.

“Here we are.” The judge announced after a while.

“It is a big house.” Neal said in awe. His dad smiled sadly.

“Well, we had planned more little ones but we didn’t want other children to be your replacement, to try to be a cure for our grief,” Michael answered sincerely. His son just nodded.It was the first time Neal realized that his parents were also victims here – their life had been turned upside down too.

“Any other family?” He asked after a moment.

“Well, my parents – your grandparents ― live upstate, they’re both retired. I have two brothers. Ann’s parents passed away a couple years ago.  Her brother lives in Europe and her sister in California. Her uncles – two of them – live here in New York.” The judge didn’t want to add that they would do anything for Neal – no questions asked. Legal or illegal didn’t matter.

“They are all eager to meet you whenever you’re ready.” He said instead.

Neal simply nodded. Again. It was hard to find the right words to describe how he felt, what he thought. Everything was just too much. The kidnapping when he lost all hope, the hospital when he had to face his old demons and new challenges, the meeting when…when he hoped for a miracle, apologies, any sign of humanity from Vivien and found none but was comforted by his dad afterwards, the ride home – and where was home exactly? Or more importantly – what can be expected at home? As much as Neal would like to close his past and start everything all over again, it wasn’t that easy. Even after so many years, he remembered – no, he still _felt_ the pain, humiliation, indifference, the lack of love – all those bad things, bad feelings which were a daily part of his childhood. And now…and now he should trust again. He had trusted with the naivety of a young boy, the hope of a child, but nothing good had ever come from it. And now…Ann was waiting for him outside the house. Smiling. Vivien did that too…because people were watching.

Rationally, Neal knew that Ann wasn’t Vivien, Michael wasn’t James, but it was so hard to believe in happily ever after. Rationally, this kind of story wasn’t possible.

“Welcome home.” Ann smiled helping him out of the car and guiding him inside.

“You’re cold, aren’t you? I lit the fire. It’s all warm and cozy inside.”

Then she looked at her husband.“I told you that you should have taken the warmer jacket. He’s freezing!”

The judge sighed.“Ann, he’ll be fine.”

The Brookses knew that they weren’t talking about the jacket.

_I told you not let him near her. We should have done it my way with my family’s help. Let her suffer. Kill her._

_Ann, he did well. He needed it._

Neal’s mom took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“Let’s hope so.” She was back to her son standing dazed in the hall. Ann took over and showed him around the house.

“This is kitchen, living room, Michael’s office, your bedroom and bathroom, temporarily, – your room is upstairs but we will have to wait a bit until your hip gets better. And there are many presents for all the missing birthdays and Christmases. Unpacked waiting for you. And our garden is just outside.”

Neal still opted for nods instead of words during his mom’s tour. He was in shock – kind of. The house was bigger than he imagined, nicely decorated and homey. Nothing like the place in which he grew up.

“Sweetie, you must be tired. C’mon.”

His mom made him sit down on the bed in ‘his’ temporary bedroom.

“What about losing all these fancy clothes and putting on some more comfortable things? I’ll heat some food and your father will help you. I bet everyone is hungry. Peter, do you mind helping me?”

“Not at all.” The agent took the hint and left Neal with his father.

“Pj’s or sweats?”

“Sweats. And where are the animals?” Michael let out a small chuckle.

“Don’t be so eager to meet them – they won’t leave you alone after that. Ann locked them outside.” The judge helped Neal to undress, mindful of his various smaller and bigger injuries.

“Could you please take care of the suit? It belonged to June’s husband. I don’t have many things of my own…Did June bring my clothes? I have a pair of grey sweats…” The kid tried to look around. Nice, wide bed, closet, chest of drawers, comfy armchair, plushy carpet. And it wasn’t even ‘his’ room. It was ‘his guest room.’

“June brought some stuff and Ann went shopping, too. Apparently we have navy blue, charcoal grey and black here.”

“She shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble and expense…”

Michael answered what Neal had really meant. “Yes. You do deserve all this. Let’s put on the blue ones. They seem to be the warmest.”

“Thank you.”

Ann cajoled Neal into eating a bit of lunch but he didn’t last long at the table.Just long enough for the cat and the dog to sniff him, appreciate his presence and try to get some goodies, but the judge’s finger pointed and the animals left Neal (and his food) alone. His parents led the conversation but it was obvious after a while that the kid was just too overwhelmed and too tired.

“Somebody needs a nap.” Ann commented after one of the yawns.

“Sorry.” Neal tried one of his smiles. It didn’t even reach his eyes.

“Don’t be.” Michael told him.

Peter said his goodbyes, reiterating, “If there is anything you need, just give me a call. And don’t get into any trouble, ok?”

“I can’t promise that… you know me.” Neal said with just a bit of playfulness in his voice. The agent smiled – the kid was still there. He didn’t feel completely at ease with letting him stay with the Brookses – not that he didn’t plan on checking on their parental care.

With Peter gone, Michael led Neal to his bedroom.

“C’mon, sport. Let’s get some rest.”

 Before the kid fall asleep, Phoenix took her place next to him, snuggling as close as possible, and the dog lay on the floor. 

“Are you allowed to sleep on the bed?” The kid asked in a sleepy voice. The cat looked at him and just came closer.

“I won’t defend you if you get into trouble. Fair warning, hear me?” The cat was already asleep.

Neal slept peacefully for several hours. The warm ball of fur next to him wasn’t so bad – it gave him a lot of comfort and peace. When he woke up it was early evening.

“Hi, I hope you slept well, sweetie. Sit down and I’ll fix you something to eat.” Ann invited him to the table in the kitchen.

Neal was still quiet – and his parents gave him space, let him do things at his own pace. They made sure he ate and he took his meds, that he was warm and comfortable but they didn’t push him to talk, to engage in anything.

“Sorry for the cat. I saw that she slept with you. I’ll lock her…” Ann said.

“No…it’s ok. I’ve never had any pet…It’s nice…If it’s ok with you…”

“I gave up on not letting her sleep or jump on the furniture. Don’t tell your dad but I think Phoenix is sure she owns the place…”

“I know she does.” Michael chuckled entering the kitchen.

“What about watching a game together?” he suggested.

“I’m not a great fan of sports…” Neal replied. In fact– he hated sports. Watching a game with the Bennetts hurt. A lot. Especially after a loss.

“We can watch a movie or do anything you would like…”Michael tried.

“I…I don’t know.” The Bennetts didn’t care about him or what he liked or didn’t like...Neal wasn’t sure what he could do – wasn’t he too old for playing board games or watching a movie with his folks? Could they make up the lost time? Ann sensed that Neal was overwhelmed.

“That’s ok. Maybe you could help me with some drawings, hmm? I’m not sure about some items… Would you mind giving me a hand?” She handed him a piece she was working on – for some kind of commercial.

“Not at all.” This time Neal’s smile was genuine. Art, drawing – it was a safe territory. The Bennetts hated art. He loved it.

Ann and Neal worked for a while. The kid relaxed – his mom steered the conversation towards pleasant themes of different artists, art shows and her work.

“You’re so talented. My boss would be thrilled! But I’m not going to take credit for all the hard work! Sign it, sweetie.” Ann smiled. The pleasant time was over – what name he should put on?

“I don’t think so…It’s mostly your work…”

“No, no, no. What about Ann and Neal Brooks? That sounds great, doesn’t it?”Ann said is such a casual matter.

“You want me to take your family name…”

“Sweetie, it’s your name too. I understand that you don’t want to be Danny…I can imagine how much pain and suffering is linked with that name… So you can be Neal Caffrey or Neal Brooks. It’s up to you…But I’m not going to claim this work as my own…”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course. No matter what name you chose, you always be my son, my boy…Let’s clean up and turn in.”

After quick nightly routine, the whole family was in their beds.

“I think we must be the worst parents in the world. He barely talked with us…”

“No, Michael. We’re not. But we remind him of his kidnappers and abusers…Things will get better.” Ann tried to convince her husband and herself.

Neal didn’t spend much time thinking about the day. His body needed rest and the meds he took made him fall asleep almost immediately, but he woke up in the middle of the night. Maybe he had some kind of dream, not that he remembered. He lay still listening. There was almost no noise at all – the quietness was unnerving: wind moaning among the trees, Phoenix stretching on the bed next to him.

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t go back to sleep. There were still so many questions… so many thoughts crossing his mind…

The kid knew that there was a room on the second floor. His room. His damaged hip tried to veto ascending all the stairs but he didn’t listen to the pain. He needed to see it. Now. With no witnesses. To see if the Brookses really weren’t like the Bennetts. To see what the room had to offer - love or hatred.

The plan was simple – get up, go up, see, get down, turn in. Be quiet. Neal didn’t think it through, obviously – not that he couldn’t be quiet, not that he couldn’t push his body to the limits. But he couldn’t stop the rage that surged when he opened the door to the beautiful bedroom of a young boy. It was like a promise of a good, joyful, fulfilling life with no serious worries. He couldn’t stop trembling while looking at the tiny bed with lovely Winnie-the-Pooh bedding and some extra blankets nearby, boxes full of toys, stars on the ceiling, plushy carpet, books. The set of animals with initials DB on the clovers apparently the family of his lion, arranged neatly on a shelf. He didn’t have nice things – bed, bedding, toys – as a child growing up with his kidnappers…

Instead he had a lumpy mattress with an itchy blanket and the lion – his only true toy for years. His old-new room was overwhelming with love and care. His room with the Bennetts screamed at him of hatred and anger.

He should have grown up in this room where nobody would have hit him, where nobody would have let him starve, where he would have been taken to the doctor when he was sick. Then there would have been no cons, no prison, no anklet…

Neal looked around the room and inspected box by box. It wasn’t easy with one arm in  a cast and sling but he managed. The contents ended on the floor.Piece by piece, toy by toy.His parents woke up and entered the room, unsure what to do.

“Neal, sweetie, are you all right?” his mother tried, although it was obvious he wasn’t.

Neal started shouting. “I don’t need Legos now! Or stuffed toys! Or little cars!” He punctured each sentence by throwing something to the floor. When almost all the boxes were empty, he just stood there shouting.

“I needed them when I was young…when I didn’t have anything. You know what I had? The lion…some crayons for school…sometimes I found small things…toys from HappyMeals…things other children didn’t want…cars with no wheels…where were you then? I don’t need all these now…”

He knew he should stop, but now that the floodgates were opened, he couldn’t stem the flow of anger and bitterness that had been building for more than seventeen years…Tears were streaming down his face, his words punctuated with sobs.

“The presents you mentioned? Vivien always bought something for Christmas – she made sure that a neighbor or a friend saw it. Then she gave it to me. Not that I could play with it or take it out of the box. I made that mistake once… I learnt the hard way not to repeat it…So imagine a child who could stare at a toy once a year for two days…. And then she would return it to the store for a refund. When I was older, she didn’t even bother to keep up appearances!”

He was crying so hard now that he started hiccupping. The clean, tidy room looked like a tornado had hit it.

The Brookses were heartbroken and relieved at the same time. Their son needed to express his anger at them – for not finding him sooner, not helping him, not saving him. They had learnt that peace would come only afterwards. _Express your emotions, yell, cry, don’t keep it insideyou_ someone told them during the years of constant struggle with guilt. There was nothing they could do to help him but let him cry, shout and throw things.

“I’m so sorry…I wish I could make it up to you.” Michael saidwhen Neal paused for beath. Neal was too angry to listen.

“You know what – go to hell! I don’t need you now!You can’t turn back time, can you!?”

“No, son. We can’t turn back time, I wish we could…”

Neal’s sobs were subsiding. He was suddenly exhausted, his body totally spent. His legs buckled with no warning, and he landed in an ungraceful heap, hitting his injured hip.

“Auh..” A cry of pain escaped his lips.His parents were next to him in no time.

“Stay with Neal, I’m calling Josh.” Ann told her husband. Dr Josh Winters was a family doctor and a friend. They had called him earlier to prepare him for the highly-possible night trip over to their home.

When Michael tried to hug and soothe his son, Neal attacked him with his fists and weak punches.

“Why didn’t you recognize me? Why? Do you know how lucky I was with Brian as a cellmate? Do you know how hard it would have been for me to survive prison if it hadn’t been for him? Why?” The sobs started all over again but they were much weaker. Neal’s anger was fading along with his energy. He curled into himself trying to avoid his dad. Michael didn’t let it happen. He hugged Neal who buried his hand in his father’s pajamas.

“Let it out, son…” The kid cried for a while. His mom returned.

“He’ll be here shortly.” Neal calmed down a bit and realized what he had done and said.  _Well done Caffrey. You should have accepted their love and kept your mouth shut. You had a loving family. For one night._

“I can take a cab. You needn’t have called him.” The kid replied thinking that he would be taken somewhere by a stranger because his parents were fed up with him.

“Son, it’s the middle of night, let’s wait till morning…I’m sorry you don’t want to stay here…I wish you did.” Michael’s last statement came out as a sob, betraying his heartbreak that his son wanted to leave.

The kid looked up, surprised.

“I thought you didn’t want me to stay after what I said. That’s why you called someone.” He said in soft voice. Michael hugged his son closer, understanding the previous miscommunication.

“No, kiddo. He’s our family doctor. He’ll look you over. I bet that the hip didn’t like the trip upstairs…” Neal didn’t protest against the medical attention. His hip hurt. A lot.

“But I destroyed your room…”

“You didn’t destroy anything. You…re-decorated.” Michael told him. Neal managed a watery smile. .

“And it’s your room. Well, I can’t guarantee that you wouldn’t have made it more clean and tidy from now on but we would help you. Don’t fret. And we need to change some furniture. I guess you don’t fit the tiny bed anymore…”

“I’m sorry…I…”

“Shh, you needed to let the anger out.  I bet you feel better now?”

The kid tried to ask something but managed only to murmur,“Hmmm?”

“Sweetie, it’s better to cry and shout and… do other things than let your anger eat you up from the inside…” Ann added. She was close to tears herself – but… But it was better this way – the preserved sanctuary, the room kept intact to save the memory of a boy was no longer needed.They didn’t need old memories – they could build new ones.

“But you are so kind and I was…I…” The kid trailed off. His eyes were red and puffy, he was trembling slightly and he was pale. Ann hoped that Josh would come soon because she was terrified that her son just set back his recovery a while.

 “Neal, we believed, we had faith, we hoped that you would be back – it’s one of the reasons we didn’t move from here, why we didn’t change the room.”

 “You really don’t want me to leave?”

“Not a chance, sport.”

“Not a chance, sweetie.”

If there had been any tears left, Neal would have cried again. But he felt empty inside.

“How about we try to stand up and go back to bed?” Neal didn’t think that he could make it to the ground floor.

“Downstairs?” He asked. His dad sensed that it was out of the question.

“Well, how about around the corner? Our master bedroom?There’s a king-sized bed…’’

Neal tried to stand on shaky legs. It was obvious that even just around the corner was too far away. His dad carried him bridal style down the hall to their bedroom. His mom already went downstairs to retrieve his pillow and some extra blankets.

After a few minutes footsteps were heard and Ann entered the room along with a man in his late forties.

“Hi. You must be Neal. I’m Josh, your family doctor. I’d like to check you over to make sure everything is healing nicely.” The stranger introduced himself.

“I’m fine. I was discharged from hospital in the morning.”

“True. But I bet that they told you to take it easy, didn’t they?” The doctor smiled at the kid. Neal just nodded.

“Tell you what, I’d like to listen to your lungs, check your vitals, look at the hip. Nothing more.”

 “I’d really rather not…..”  The doctor read the reluctance as the fear that it was.

“It might be a bit unpleasant but I’ll be gentle. Besides, I’ll tell you something in secret: this nice lady over there is ready to call 911 and this nice man next to you would insist on a police escort to the hospital if I don’t deem you unharmed.”

“I can add a SWAT team if necessary…” Michael said. It made Neal smile.

“I’m fine. I didn’t even throw up…”

“Son, I didn’t go through medical school and many years of practice not to be able to recognize when someone is in pain. Serious pain…”

Neal sighed. “It’s just my hip…It hurts…”

“Ok. Let’s have a look.” The doctor gently checked Neal’s battered body, then maneuvered him between pillows to take off as much pressure from the hip as possible.

“Better? An icepack will do magic…”

“Yeah.”

“Neal, I’d like to give you a shot to help with the pain. Just a slight analgesic – it will work better than a pill.”

Sensing that Neal was afraid that it would be painful, the doctor added, “You won’t feel a thing…If not a shot, I’d recommend something to eat and one of your prescribed pills”

“Let’s do a shot…”

The doctor was quick and before Neal managed to change his mind, everything was over. He got a band-aid with Stuart from the Minions.

“Sorry. I have the Minions or the Cars…I must have used all my non-cartoon band-aids.”

“That’s ok.” Neal was smiling like he just won the lottery.

“Ok. Try to rest and tomorrow enjoy the nice weather outside. And son, eat something.”

“I’m eating!” Neal protested.

“Get better.” The doctor smiled kindly.

“Thank you.”

He turned toward his parents. “Will you stay with me? Please… I don’t want to be alone…”

Michael stayed with Neal, Ann promised to be back and went to let the doctor out of the house.

“I’m overprotective, aren’t I?” She asked Josh.

“Ann, it’s understandable. You’re a mom – being overprotective is  part of the job description. Go back to him. I know that he doesn’t look fine, but he’s on the path to full recovery. Call me if he gets worse or if you need confirmation that he’s OK.” The doctor added in soft voice.

“What would we do without you?” Ann hugged him gently.

“You would probably have dragged the poor boy to the hospital just to make sure.”

“I would.” Ann chuckled.

Ann was upstairs in no time. The light was dim. Michael lay next to his son, the cat having found her place as well. She decided to take the opposite side of the bed. Her husband wasn’t asleep but Neal’s eyes were closed. However, he wasn’t asleep either.

“Are you asleep?”Neal asked her.

“No. I’m not.”

“Do you have a pot and a metal bowl?”

“I do but I’m not going to hit you with them.” Ann was quick to answer. Neal chuckled a bit.

“I know. Can we make hot chocolate? From real chocolate?In a water bath? With milk…”

“Of course, we can.”

“Great.” Neal closed his eyes but it didn’t take him long to open them again.

“Can you ride a bike?” This time he asked his father.

“Yes.”

“Do you have an extra bike?”

“Yes.”

“Will you teach me?”

“I’d love to. When you get better.”

“Thank you.”

Then there were questions about Christmas, Thanksgiving dinner and other small things. Until the tiredness took over and the kid felt asleep.

“It’s good to have you…” He whispered bringing tears to his parents’ eyes.

The rest of the night was quiet – Neal slept flanked by his mom and his dad. Phoenix somehow managed to curl herself into a small ball and occupied a place by the kid’s knees. The dog posted himself as guard on the floor.

The Brookses woke up their son in the morning, fed him a little, and gave him his antibiotics. Neal didn’t protest, still too groggy from sleep. But he did protest when he didn’t feel his dad’s presence next to him.

“He’ll be back. He just went to bathroom.” Ann tried to calm her son.

Michael didn’t have much choice but to lie back down next to his son. He didn’t fall asleep but he cherished the picture – his son tucked in between him and his wife. Even the cat lying stretched on her back added to the calmness and beauty of the scene.

It was good thing that he didn’t fall asleep because a knock at the door interrupted the family moment. Michael cursed and sprinted downstairs to deal with the visitor.

The last thing Judge Brooks expected while opening his front door was to see Agent Peter Burke. With a serious look at his face.

“Did something happen?” The judge asked concerned. What if that bitch Vivien got away, what if one of the goons his son helped to lock down get away, what if….

“You tell me. I couldn’t reach Neal on his phone and was concerned that he’d had a relapse and you had to take him back to the hospital. Then I couldn’t reach you on the phone either…” The agent didn’t stop for the answer rushing past the judge towards Neal’s bedroom on the ground floor. When he found it empty, he started to call his name.

“Neal, where are you, buddy? Neal?” He almost made the call to bring a team to search for the missing friend and to arrest the Brookses for – what for exactly?  He didn’t hear any explanations – Neal wasn’t in his bed. It took a while before the judge’s words managed to reach the agent,

“Neal had a rough night and he is upstairs in our bed because he was too weak to make it back down the stairs. I’d turned off the ringer so we could all get some sleep. You can go upstairs and have a look that he is safe and sound.” The agent swallowed not sure what to do.

“Go on…I don’t feel offended…”

Peter went upstairs and found Neal and his mom asleep. Peacefully. He felt sheepish – Neal’s parents did take care of him. The agent went downstairs.

“Sorry… I feel like an idiot now but…” The judge smiled.

“Don’t be. C’mon. We both can use some coffee. ”                                                

“Yeah.” Peter managed and started to talk about the forecast for severe thunderstorms in the afternoon.

Before they could sit down with their coffee, there was another knock at the door.

June’s arrival had much more elegance ( _I was out and I saw these delicious cinnamon rolls that Neal likes so I thought I would stop by. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything_ ). Michael appreciated the gentility of her approach, but wasn’t fooled for a moment.

He tried really hard not to laugh looking at June and Peter sitting at the kitchen table and sipping coffee pretending to be deeply engaged in some petty conversation about the weather. She tried to gently ask about the kid’s night. The judge should feel grateful – after all, they came here to assure themselves that his son was left in good hands.

“You can check yourself that he is alive and asleep…I’m…sorry…” By the end of the sentence Michael was laughing loudly.

“Is it that obvious?” June asked.

The judge nodded, adding, “Don’t get me wrong – I’m really touched that you came and you can come any time to check on Neal and to check on us being his parents.”

“Well, we don’t want to take any chances… If I were you, I would brew more coffee… I had to order Miguel not to storm over here but I can’t promise he won’t plan some kind of diversion with food…”

“El is baking cookies…”

“Mozzie is collecting some books…”

“Hughes called me to check if he left his wallet with Neal’s sweets… I’m sure he did…”

“I… can’t thank you enough…” The judge had to turn away and got busy with coffee.

“Nonsense. Take care of Neal.” June stood up, Peter following suit. The judge tried to stop her.

“No. You came all the way down here – you deserve to have your proof of life. Although, it might take some time…And the ‘proof’ might be a bit loopy…”

“We believe you will take good care of him. I know you must be busy so we will be back with dinner around six.” June answered smiling. Michael just nodded. He was sure that all the people who were planning on checking on them would be informed to come then. It was a good feeling– their table in the dining room didn’t remember having guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you still with me? Sorry for the delay... RL...
> 
> My beta Ayam improved this chapter! Thank you! She's the best beta I could dream of!
> 
> Peter is a bit AU here... Hope to be forgiven...
> 
> Kudos? Ideas? Reviews?


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something good, something bad....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the delay!
> 
> I’ve to warn you that I play a bit with the timeline here – so some things are described but will happen in the future!!! 
> 
> My lovely Ayam made this chapter a whole better!!! Thank you!

“Agent Hughes, there is still one aspect of the case we haven’t discussed yet.”

“Yes. And when we talk about the FBI’s responsibility for Neal Caffrey, I would suggest we should focus on the field office in DC, not inManhattan,” the agent added. This time the lady sighed.

“We will. Nobody knew that Kate Moreau had made a deal with Agent Phillip Kramer…”

“A deal he never intended to honor…”

“Well, we can’t be sure about that…” She was harshly interrupted. Hughes shook his head.

“Look. I met an agent once whose actions got his informant ― a teenage kid ― killed.The kid was easy to convince – he used marihuana in a non-medical setting, got caught and was promised a clean record if he cooperated. He did. Some drug dealers were put away thanks to his work. A victory! Until it wasn’t…The kid was shot and died in his father’s arms.The drug dealers’ revenge.The agent told me that the FBI doesn’t care about collateral damage if the job gets done. I’d love to be able to argue but the more I see of the FBI, the more I believe that he’s right. Do you know who was the agent? Philip Kramer.” The older agent took a deep breath and continued.

“Kate and Neal weren’t perceived as lonely, hurt kids. They were sources. For Kramer Kate was a tool to be used. He wanted Keller – of course the bastard managed to slip away and get to New York, but Kramer arrested some goons. The raid – or maybe someone associated with it – must have tipped off Keller that he had a rat in his ‘organization.’ So he took ‘justice’ in his own hands – Kate was killed along with Adler. She was murdered because she had trusted Kramer to give her a chance at life. But for Kramer? For the FBI? Who would care about her? Who would inform her that the deal hadn’t been approved by Kramer’s supervisor? Maybe he told her that her actions weren’t good enough? She died mere days after and nobody would have known if it hadn’t been for somebody’s guilty conscience. A goddamned coincidence! How many coincidences can one case take? How many?!” Hughes’ words were bitter but he wasn’t shouting. His deep, calm voice had a greater effect. After a while, the lady tried once again to defend Kramer – at least Hughes interpretedit that way.

“Agent Kramer wasn’t sure about Kate’s and Neal’s role so maybe that’s the reason he didn’t…”

“Damn it! A kid – how old was Kate? Seventeen? She came in and reported crimes she had witnessed or was forced to commit and she was promised in a written deal―at least it looked like that to her – immunity and assistance in building a life. For her and for Neal. Imagine her – how happy she must have been, how eager to share the news – Neal didn’t know, she hadn’t had a chance to tell him. Then – she was betrayed. And murdered.” Hughes’ voice remained deadly calm.

“Sir, we can’t prove that Kramer’s lie had any impact on Caffrey…or led to Kate’s death…”

“Of course, it didn’t.” Theresponsedripped sarcasm.

Hughes continued, “Why would it? Keller found out somehow – that should be investigated in depth. Neal was in New York, which left Kate or Adler. So he killed them both. Just in case. Kramer’s impact on Neal? His love of life, his hope for a better future was as dead as Kate…Of course it had an impact! How insensitive and stupid you’d have to be to think otherwise!”

“Sir, with all due respect…”

“Kramer was offered an early retirement – not much justice…At least Brookses’ dog bit him. Someone in this mess had some judgment.” Hughes snarled.

Bancroft stepped up before anything more could happen. “We all need a break. Let’s call it a day.” No one considered objecting.

*****

_Tuesday (after the Saturday’s dinner) – the day when Kramer decided to meet Neal and it didn’t end well_

In the Brookses’ household the day began as many other days – breakfast, Neal’s physical therapy, some appointments, walking the dog – nothing out of ordinary. Nobody suspected that by the late afternoon they would have to deal with a whole new set of problems – centered around the dog, Neal and the biting incident.

On the Tuesday afternoon trying to cajole their son back into the house, Ann and Michael were really grateful that months ago they had made a decision to get a dog as a new addition to their life. It had started with a trip to the shelter to bring a pup. The judge took it upon himself to do that – he knew exactly what kind of dog he was looking for – a pup, preferably small. Well, the plans were shattered when he met…the dog. He was neither young, nor small,and it was pretty obvious he hadn’t had an easy life. Somehow Michael couldn’t make himself look at any other dog.

“Sir, he’s not a pup and we can’t guarantee that he will adjust. He’s been through a lot.” The employee warned.

“Does that mean that he shouldn’t be given a chance to find a home?”

“No…but it just means that it might be difficult.”

“I’ll take him. Does he have a name?”

“His previous owner called him… bad names…and we tried but we couldn’t find a name – he doesn’t respond to any our attempts.”

“It means that you didn’t find the right one.” The judge thought that finding a name for a pet would be easy – it wasn’t and weeks later the dog was called simply ‘the dog.’

“He probably doesn’t like any names we came up with.” Ann told her husband sometime later.

The dog was great – well, when he learnt the rules of his new den – such as no chasing the cat around the house and no barking at the postman. He was told that he should never bite anyone and some more rules. After a while he and Phoenix reached a compromise – the alliance worked especially well in the kitchen when goodies were prepared. The dog was becoming happy in his canine world.

A week or two later something changed in his master’s and mistress’s life. Something made them full of emotions – they laughed, cried, hugged each other and then…then they brought home a young master. The dog could smell that the young master was injured and still unwell.

It would be hard to try to get into the dog’s mind to answer the simple question of why he had reacted the way he had. Maybe after some time, the dog decided that the past should be the past, that he should put his unhappy life when he was hungry, hurt and unloved behind him into a ‘before’ category and that now was his new life – his ‘after’ full of happiness, love and a full bowl? Maybe he recognized Neal as someone like himself with an unhappy ‘before’ and wanted to give Neal his chance at a better ‘after’? Maybe he had labeled Neal as a pup – as a little one that need to be protected? Maybe he sensed that Kramer was trouble and Neal must be protected from him? Maybe he decided that rules didn’t apply to humans called bastards? Maybe… All in all, by late afternoon the dog ended up on the sidewalk hugged tightly by Neal who didn’t want to let him go despite people trying to pry him away.

_Saturday – the day when Kramer’s little dirty secret was yet to be discovered_

While Peter was downstairs dealing with some apparently unexpected guests, the dog guarded Neal who was still sleeping. Suddenly, the kid stirred and groaned – the dog sprinted downstairs to retrieve hismaster. He found him in the kitchen drinking coffee.

“What’s the matter? Do you need to go out?” Two barks later and one attempt to drag his master towards the stairs, Michael understood what the dog meant.

When the judge entered the bedroom, his wife was already awake, so was Neal.

“Is everything ok in here?” Michael asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I moved a bit wrong. And I need to use the bathroom.” Neal answered. At least the last part was true.

“Ok. Let me help you.” Together they managed to disentangle Neal from the moundof blankets and he wobbled to the bathroom mostly on his own.

“Is he really ok?” Michael whispered to his wife while waiting for his son. Ann shrugged her shoulders.

“Don’t know. He had some kind of nightmare. I managed to wake him up.”

“Was it about his childhood?”

“Couldn’t tell.”

Soon Neal emerged from the bathroom. He looked tired and even more fragile than just after Keller’s attack.

“Let’s get you downstairs. You have several options for your ride: bridal style, piggyback or fireman’s carry.” Michael told Neal.

“I can walk downstairs. And I’d like to take shower first…Will…you know… kind of…help here?I mean if you ok with…” Nealstuttered and his father smiled.

“Sure thing. And the sooner we’re done the sooner we can dig into some breakfast. We have plenty of the finest pastries courtesy of your landlady.”

“June was here?”

“Yes. And Peter as well.In fact, as soon as you’re done with your shower, you might want to text all your friends and let them know that you’re safe and sound.” Neal had a puzzled look at his face.

“But…they know that…” Michael started to laugh.

“Well,June and Peter have already been here to check on you, to satisfy themselves that your ‘new’ parents were taking good care of you.”

“But… you wouldn’tharm… Would you?” Neal became even more puzzled.

“No, of course we wouldn’t. But they have decided to give us… a limited bit of trust on that. You know, ‘trust, but verify.’ We managed to reach a compromise.Instead of everyone coming one by one – they should all come for dinner.”

“Oh…” He wasn’t exactly sure who was included in the “they”but he could make a guess. June, Peter, Miguel, El, maybe even Diana and Jones. Or even Hughes…

The shower was quick and Michael half-carried Neal downstairs in against loud protests than he could do it on his own.

“It’s embarrassing. I can walk.”

“It’s not embarrassing. You can but the doctor emphasized that the stairs should be avoided.”

“But…”

“Shall I call Josh? Or Dr Cheng? Or June?” Michael threatened, although he used light tone.

“Not fair.” Neal huffed.

In the kitchen Ann prepared breakfast – well, brunch would be more accurate for a meal eaten almost at noon. The dog and Phoenix sat next to Neal’s chair hoping to get some goodies from him. Neal was quick to share – his plate had more food on it that he could possible eat but his actions were soon discovered and his dad puta stop to them.

“Don’t spoil them. They are spoiled enough.” Neal smiled and scratched the dog.

“Sorry…No more treats…By the way we should really find you a name. You had a name, didn’t you? We can’t just call you dog…” The dog let the kid pethim. Yes, he had a name but it was too long ago when he was a pup so he had forgotten. The names he was given in his ‘before’ weren’t nice, in his ‘after’–  weren’t truly his. Like a nickname that could be changed.Like an alias that could be easily burnt. So he didn’t answer to them.

“We tried. He doesn’t respond to any typical dog’s names. We tried to find a new one but nothing worked.” Michael explained.

“Let me think about it…We’ll find you a name, don’t worry…”

Neal wanted to go outside for a walk to breathe in the smell of the soil and fresh air. The Brookses exchanged worried looks but it was warm and sunny and their house was in a quiet and peaceful part of the city. Ann packed some food, water, warmer clothes and they went out with their dog on the leash.

The pace was slow, the topics they discussed mundane but everyone was happy. Ann asked frequently if Neal was warm enough, if he was hungry, thirsty or dizzy, if he wanted to sit down. The kid politely answered that he was fine. Michael told his wife less politely to let him be.

“Ann, give him a break.”

“I know, but look, his hands are cold. Maybe we should have taken gloves…”

Neal and his dad start laughing.

“Yeah, and a winter jacket…”

“Boots…”

“Scarf…”

“Ok. I’m a bit overprotective here…” Ann finally admitted.

“More than a bit, honey, a lot. And that’s why we love you.” Michael answered.

On their way back they met an older lady walking a smaller dog.

“Hi, Jodie.” Ann greeted her.

“Hi, Ann, Michael. And who is this young man?” She asked.

“This is our son,”Ann announced proudly.

“Danny?”

“Well, he prefers Neal.”

Jodie’s face looked stricken as she stared at Neal. “Oh my god, I’ve never forgiven myself for what happenedto you. It was my fault.”

Ann interrupted. “Jodie, we’ve discussed this so many times. It wasn’t.”

After Jodie had beenruled out as a suspect, she reached out to them and tried as best she could to help with the search for Danny. Somehow they managed to become friends – maybe not close ones, but close enough to talk from time to time or to walk their dogs together.

“It was my dog…Neal, you felt off your bike because of my dog. Broken arm, hospital, kidnapping…It’s all my fault… I can’t tell you how sorry I am…”

Neal had finally found his voice, and said gently, “Ma’am, it wasn’t your fault. The people who took…they had it all planned. They would have taken any child…It was just a coincidence…I don’t hold a grudge…”

“Thank you. And take care, sweetheart…” The older lady had tears in her eyes. “I’ve got to go now…but I hope we’ll meet again soon.” The Brookses nodded and headed home.

After a moment, Michael said, “Neal, it meant a lot to her – what you said…”

“I know. And I don’t blame her… It’s just hard right now to know what I think or feel about everything…There are so many things going on…”

“We know, son. But remember you’re not alone.”

When they returned to the house, Neal fell asleep on the couch before his mom managed to feed him again–  much to her dismay.

“He ate too little…”

“Give him time.”

Neal woke up before dinner, freshened up and wanted to dress in one of his (well, Byron’s) suits.

“Not gonna happen. It’s just dinner. Among friends. A pair of jeans would be fine. And put on the warm socks. Michael will help you. And a fleecesweatshirt…” Ann ordered. She sensed that Neal needed armor –to mask whatever was on his mind – to conceal that he was shaken up, in pain, tired and terrified. She didn’t want to let it happen – she didn’t want to let him armor himself pretending that he was fine. She wanted to show him that it would be ok not to be fine among friends and family.

“But…”

“I know that you think I’m a bit crazy here – with all the hovering I’ve been doing and I’m sorry if you feel overwhelmed. I…I’m a bit out of practice with being a mom. And I forget that you’re almost 21 not 3 years old. That being said I’m still not letting you put on a three-piece-suit for a dinner among friends.”

“I know, but I don’t have many nice things…casual ones…my jeans are…a bit old.”

“Sweetie, that’s not going to be a problem. I did some shopping…We’ll do more later on.”

“I know…but…”

“Yes, Michael told me about your buts – none of that. C’mon, get dressed.”

Neal washed up in the downstairs bathroom, and Michael helped him put on the new clothes Ann had picked out. 

Peter and El arrived early and were having a glass of wine in the kitchen.

“ Would you like to go to the living room?” Ann asked.

“No, it’s fine here. I’ll start heating the food, if I can use your oven.” El asked.

“Go ahead.” Ann smiled. The first portion of food was put in the oven. Peter asked for some coffee.

“Yeah. I’m an addict.” He added sipping the beverage.

Trying to be inconspicuous, Neal had been left alone for a minutein the midst of the ongoing banter. He poured himself a cup of coffee and drank almost half of it before Peter managed to react.

“Hey. Who gave you coffee? How did you do that?”Ann asked, hands on hips.

“He observed, planned and then used the commotion to reach his goal.” Neal smiled at Peter’s reporting.

“Sorry. I promise no more cons but I needed a bit of caffeine. You were torturing me with the smell…”

“Give it back. Now.” Ann demanded.

“Neal, it’s not good for you…” Michael tried.

“No…” Neal took a sip. Three sips later Peter managed gently to pry the cup out of the kid’s hands.

“Too late.” The kid commented with a huge grin on his face.“It was so good…”

“It will not be so good when your doctor finds out…” Miguel, who had just arrived with June and more food, threatened.

“Oh, he will understand…”

“I don’t doubt that he will. But I doubt he will spare you the lecture.” Peter provided.

“Was worth it.”  The kid gave him one of the biggest smiles – and it wasn’t a fake one.

What Neal didn’t know was that Ann suspected that he would try to get some coffee after his fruitless attempts to get one during the day. So she switched and brewed de-caf. Her guests would forgive her – it was for the greater good.

The dining table, abandoned for years, now had its moment of fame. June and Miguel, Peter and El, Diana and Jones, Hughes and Bancroft and the Brookses – Ann, Michael and Neal – all sat down to enjoy the dinner, to celebrate life and living.

As with many such moments, the calm was just a prelude to an oncoming storm. When Hughes arrived at work Monday morning, he settled at his desk and routinely opened a piece of mail, no prescience giving warning that inside he would find a confession written by a dying woman who years ago had been a young agent in the FBI Field Office in DC. Her boss had been Agent Phillip Kramer. And she knew all his dirty secrets. One bothered her more than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whom do we love to hate? Phil Kramer - long time no see!  
> Yes, you know that I’m cruel – but I can promise a lot of fun in the next chapter :D   
> Do you like the dog? We have to name him! And I have no idea about different breeds…


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner...

_28 th June_

Bancroft followed Hughes out of the building

 “Tough day.” He started.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Hughes replied.

“Ok. Are you up for a drink?”

“Isn’t it too early for that? Besides, I have a better option.”

Hughes drove up to the Brookses’ house. He didn’t plan on visiting. Soon Bancroft realized what his friend and colleague planned on doing. He needed to see the only good that came out of this mess. And here it – or more accurately he ― was.

Neal, still slightly underweight, his arm still in a cast, was laughing at something. His dad was walking beside him, their dog barking  at a squirrel in one of the trees. Ann probably was at home fixing dinner.

“I’m not foolish enough to believe that it would be a bed of roses, but seeing the kid actually happy, better, safe…I can sit and answer all the questions they throw at me.”

Bancroft just nodded.

*****

_The last week of May_

_Saturday – Just before dinner and after Neal’s great coffee scheme_

“Ok. You need to go to theliving room before you manage to get your hands on some wine or more coffee.” Peter escorted the kid out of the kitchen.  Even if everyone noticed his true intentions, he didn’t care – he needed some face to face time with Neal. Peter eased him down on the couch and checked the kid’s forehead for a non-existing fever.

“Sit down. Do you want something? Water?”

Neal rolled his eyes and asked,  “Coffee?”

“Smart ass.”

“Was worth trying, wasn’t it?” The kid grinned.

 _I won’t let you put a conman’s mask in place,_ Peter thought. “How are you? And I don’t want to hear that you’re fine.”

Neal sighed.“I’m fine, really. Like not 100% fine but I’m ok.”

“Neal…”

“It’s true. I’m not in pain – not anything unbearable, just the dull aches here and there if I move wrong. I’m warm. I’m not hungry.” Peter shook his head.

“Yeah… But I’m not asking only about your physical status, kiddo…”Neal stared at Peter for a few moments. The agent stared back without a blink. The kid sighed. He wasn’t going to win a staring battle - apparently Peter was trained well.

“I know…and it’s hard to explain. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Last night I got angry. Really angry and I destroyed Danny’s – my bedroom. That’s why I ended up upstairs.” Neal was surprised that he had said all these but it suddenly felt good.

“Anger is good. Feeling is good.”

“Thank you, Dr Phil.”

“I’m serious.”

“I didn’t know that you couldtalk about feelings, Peter. I’m impressed. Any other hidden talents you’ve kept secret? I’m your partner - I should know…”

“Yes. Many. Like I can squeeze an answer from one unwilling kid.” Peter gently pushed his finger into the kid’s chest – the gesture was full of concern, comfort and care. Neal giggled, sighed, looked down and answered.

“It’s nice but it’s different.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re hovering. A lot. You all did that too, but with them it’s just… like they’re afraid that I’ll break. They called a doctor yesterday in the middle of the night just to be sure that the trip upstairs didn’t injure my hip any further. They’ve been helping a lot with everything. They bought me clothes. It’s like they are trying to make up for lost time. On one hand – it’s nice, on the other – I know it’s not gonna work. We can’t erase the past.”

“But you can build you future on it.”

“Peter, so many memorable statements today. Do you want a hug in exchange?”

“Why not.” The agent stood up.

“I was joking.”

“I wasn’t. So cowboy-up.”

“You have your wife and Satchmo to hug.”  Neal said but submitted to Peter’s embrace.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No. I bet there will be more hugs…I’ll survive…But if Hughes hugs me…”

“He wouldn’t…” Peter laughed when he imagined his boss… No, Hughes wouldn’t do that. In fact when the senior agent arrived some time later he opted for a neutral handshake.

“When can I come back to work?”

“Neal…”

“Don’t Neal-me now. I know that I don’t have a formal education and you have many people with all these fancy diplomas but we’ve worked just fine together. I need a job. I don’t want to be a burden. Am I not good enough?” The statement made Peter angry. Very angry.

“Stop right now. I’d love to work with you but I think you should consider your other options – traveling, going to college and so on. And if I hear one word of self-doubt, of you calling yourself a burden, worrying about money or lack of education, I swear I’ll go ballistic. Right now you’re only job is to get better – because you need medical clearance to start working for starters.” Peter didn’t think that it would be that simple – between Michael and Ann’s over protectiveness and possibly red tape – but maybe at least part-time could be arranged.

“They told me that there’s a deal. Do you know what it says?”

“I know that it gives you a fresh start.”

“What do I have to do in return?”

“Nothing.”

“You can’t lie, you know.”

“Ok. They want testimony about your past – but I guess it can wait.” Neal started chewing his bottom lip. A tell.

“But what to say … past is past…”

“Don’t worry about it now. The FBI wants to know if we screwed anything up.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“For what?”

“For me.”

“Technically no. But the fact that I sent a child to prison will give me nightmares for a while.”

“You’re dreaming about me. Kinky.”

“Shut up, Caffrey.”

“You know that I don’t hold grudge?”

“Duly noted.”Peter smirked. The conversation wasn’t finished – but at least it had begun.

“What about the other agent – Thompson?”

“He’s been taken care of. In all ways possible.”

“Do I want to know details?”

“No. You don’t. But if you want to talk about the case, kidnapping or anything that happened during your time with the FBI, I’m here. If not me, you can see someone – on the FBI’s dime.”

“Shrink? I’m not crazy thank you very much.”

“A therapist, not necessarily a psychiatrist, and nobody says that you are. Besides, counseling is not for crazy people – it’s for ordinary people who have faced some difficulties in their lives.” Neal looked at him with eyes wide open.

“Who are you and what have you done with Peter Burke?”

“Hey, I’m trying to be serious. So hear me out. Please.  Many things happened during the last weeks and even more…”

“No, thank you.”  Neal interrupted him. Peter sighed.

“I did make use of some counseling.”It made the kid speechless but he recovered quickly seeing a possible trap.

“Oh.But it was mandatory, wasn’t it?”

“Hard question. Between El and Hughes…”

“Ouch.”

“I’m not telling that you should do it. Just think about it, ok?”Peter doubted that Neal would do it but he wanted to give him an option.

“Did you catch the guy who snatched me?”

“No and I doubt we ever will.”

“Why? He fled, didn’t he?”

“Let’s say that it’s a dangerous world out there, as someone once told me.” Neal nodded but didn’t comment, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

“I don’t remember much. He wanted something – information I guess. But everything is a bit blurry.”

“You were hurt. It’s understandable.”

“But what if I revealed some secrets? Or helped them steal something?”

“Apart from the guy behind it, we believe that everyone else involved had been caught. And they sang like the best tenors.So no need to worry. Besides, crimes under duress don’t count. We can talk about the case when – and more importantly if  ― you’re ready.”

“Did you let Diana lead the interrogation? Naughty Peter.”

“Hey, I had no choice. I was busy with a kid who wanted nothing but to get out of the hospital despite being unable to even stay upright.”

“Thanks by the way, for, you know…”

“Not a problem, kiddo.” After some time Peter spoke again.

“Can I ask you a question?” Neal nodded.

“When you were a kid, did something bad happen in the hospital?”It took the kid a while to come up with an answer.

“No… it didn’t. Vivien nursed me – she told me…bad things about hospitals and medical staff. I believed. I know it’s crazy but I guess that it was still the fear, so when I woke up…you know, you were there… but I don’t remember being taken from the hospital by them…”

“You doctor’s first thought was that your fear of hospitals might have been related to the kidnapping.”

“I don’t think so. Vivien…let’s say that she wasn’t the most skilled nurse…And…she told me that if you go to the hospital, you never come back – that you either die or are taken from your family… And nobody would want me so…I don’t know, I guess I figured that it would be safer to stay out of the hospital….” Neal chuckled bitterly.

“Jesus…I’m so sorry…”

“Not your fault, you know…” The silence filled the room but it wasn’t uncomfortable and it didn’t last long because there were more and more voices – probably other guests arriving. It was time to end this conversation and join the party.

Peter stood up and Neal asked, “Ok. Let’s go to the dining room. Help me up?”

Everyone enjoyed the dinner – not only because of the excellent food, but mostly because of the people gathered around the table.

When Bancroft complained about his back pain from sleeping on the couch, Hughes asked, “What did you buy her?”

Everyone looked surprised.

“His wife had birthday yesterday.”

“Hair dryer.” Everyone chuckled.

“Ouch…” All ladies at the table exclaimed.

“Hey, she wanted and needed a new one!”

“Didn’t you buy her a waffle iron a couple years back?” This time nobody could hold back the laughter.

“Some men just won’t learn… My Byron did his homework after the first pot he brought home for our anniversary.” June added

“June, we all make mistakes.” Neal said coming to the agent’s rescue.

“I don’t believe you ever made a mistake concerning women…”

“I’m flattered, Di.  It was our first Christmas. Kate and I and our dreams. And I ruined it with a toaster oven. I took it back as soon as possible and bought a nice bottle of wine instead. I still have the bottle…” It was first time Neal shared a memory with them – a memory about his Kate. A toaster oven wasn’t a small thing – the kid had wanted to stay, wanted to make a place that could have been called home. Peter felt a lump forming in his throat and when he looked around the table he knew he wasn’t the only one.

“But I’m sure that men are not the only ones who can give bad gifts…” June managed to break the outstretched silence and the conversation picked up from here.

The rest of the evening and following days were uneventful – full of normalcy.

Until Monday morning when Hughes opened a Pandora’s box.

The letter was dated back to the first week of May, a couple days after Neal was snatched during the sting. It was handwritten. The letters were small, slightly curvy.

_Dear Agent Hughes,_

_My name’s Deborah Smith and if you’re reading this letter it means that I’m dead. Such a cliché…I was a coward my whole life and even at death’s door I can’t find the courage and tell someone my secret. Well, actually not mine but something I had witnessed not that many years ago and promised not to reveal. It happened when I was younger and believed in white and black worlds with a clear boundary between the two – I’d believed that criminals were bad and law-abiding citizens good. So I’d hoped that not telling anyone was a good decision. Now I know I was wrong. So wrong. And I can’t change the past and the damage I’d done. You can say that I was naïve. Stupid would be a better word. When I was a young girl, I wanted to be a writer. Apart from tons of reports, it would be the only thing I’ve ever wrote. So enjoy._

_Anyway, I’m dead now. I couldn’t be rescued. Neal Caffrey could have been. But now probably he is dead too. I found out that he was taken by some criminals. I know the stats – 48 hours are crucial for a kidnapped victim to be found alive then the chances drop dramatically. Taking into account his criminal connections and being considered a snitch by the criminal world, I don’t think he will beat the odds… Maybe he will find peace afterwards… Two people involved in the secret would be dead by the time you’re reading this. One affected by it – possibly two.  Why bother then? Because the man who pulled the strings is still alive – how ironic, isn’t it? Yes, I do believe that it’s unfair.  What I’m writing may not make much sense, but please stay with me._

_But back from the beginning… I’ll try my best to describe the situation as it was…_

_It was late spring or early summer. I’d been working on some museum heists and thefts that had taken place all over the DC area with my boss. I remember that we were getting more and more frustrated – no leads, nothing. One day – it was a sunny, pleasant day – a young woman came to the office. She was pretty – dark hair, big eyes, slender silhouette._

_A bit shy maybe or just scared, who knows… Anyway she came with a lot of information to provide. If only her fiancé and she got a new start. My boss – almighty Philip Kramer ― promised a deal and within an hour or so provided it. I knew that it was a set-up – that according to bureau policy he had to have some approvals from the higher-ups. The girl didn’t know… In a few days we brought the ring down…One man escaped – Mathew Keller.  The girl came and he told her that her information hadn’t been good enough, that he should have arrested her, that no deal would be honored. She didn’t even cry…_

_I found out that a few days later she was killed in a car accident. Convenient, wasn’t it? Sometime later one of your agents arrested Caffrey and Keller vanished._

_I don’t know why I didn’t take this with me but I just couldn’t. I knew back then and I know now that Kramer didn’t always play by the rules. I didn’t either. As an insurance policy I made a copy of some documents. Here there are._

_I hope you know what to do._

_Sincerely yours,_

_DS_

When Hughes recovered, he did what he was best at. He acted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely beta Ayam helped as always! THANK YOU!!!  
> Sorry for the delay I hope it won't happen again! 
> 
> I read tons of great fics (The Riddle, Dickense verse... try it!)  
> There is a fic about bank heist with Hughes and co and they talk about present - yes, I was inspired :)
> 
> Thanks for staying with me!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal, Kramer and the dog...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for staying with me! Life is just life I guess... anyway, I'm trying to write as much as I can...sorry for keeping you waiting!  
> I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> My lovely - THE BEST BETA - Ayam helped a lot! Megatons of hugs!

_28 th June_

When Hughes drove back home, his wife was waiting for him with a smile, dinner and a large cardboard box.

“How was your day?” The agent asked her.

“I bet it was better than yours. Any victims?”

“No. I was civil. At least most of the time.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I want to hug you and…”

“’And’… can be after dinner. I prepared some materials for Neal. Do you mind dropping them off tomorrow on your way to the meeting?”

“Did the GPS betray my occasional detour?”

“No. It was good old detective work and wifely instincts.” Hughes smiled – his wife knew that he drove by Brooks’ house once in a while. Sometimes once a week, but sometimes even more often.

“What’s in there?”

“Something to help him choose a field of study, lure him to our university. And something to help him with his GED preparation as well.” Hughes’ wife was a professor of law at Columbia and when she learned about Neal’s talents (and past), was doing her best to help him. She had spoken to some colleagues at Columbia’s School of the Arts, and they seemed enthusiastic about getting him into one of their programs.

“Aren’t you afraid that he won’t pass the GED?” Hughes’ wife looked almost furious.

“Are you serious? He’s a genius. With self-esteem issues and poor schooling experiences, true, but still with an IQ probably off the charts. And right now he is getting all the support he needs. Ann and Michael and June and Miguel and the little guy – they’ve been helping him. Reese, part of success in learning is to find the right teachers, and another part is to learn how to learn – to discover your skills and preferences, to find fun there. He failed his previous exam because he tried to do it on his own – somewhere between working for the FBI and trying to find his place in the world. Now it will be much easier. He doesn’t have to choose between paying for food or for the exam or between sleeping or learning. Even if he fails –which I highly doubt― we will find a way to get him into higher education. He could teach on so many aspects related to art…”

Hughes nodded. His wife was a smart woman.

*****

_The last week of May – Monday_

Hughes stepped out of his office to see Peter Burke talking, or rather, bashing, a new probie.

“I’m sorry, Agent Burke, I should have asked before I sent the e-mail. But I checked in the system and his CI number, password and everything he had given me, was correct. He was charming and sounded as it was his lifeline.” The young women tried to explain her reasons. Peter sighed and shook his head calming himself enough to respond in a polite manner.

“I bet he was. I know that it’s not entirely your fault – but Caffrey is on indefinite medical leave. His only job is to recover. So if he ever calls you, sends you an e-mail or anything, you’ll come to me and I’ll deal with him. And be prepared – he’ll be charming.”

Seeing his agent finish, Hughes called.

“Burke, my office.”

“What’s going on?”

“Shouldn’t I ask you the same?”

“Neal got his hands on one of my new cases. And of course gave a few pointers.”

“And you are mad because?” Hughes asked still amused.

“Isn’t it obvious? He is barely better and he needs rest! He’s been texting me over the last hour – he should be…”

“Sleeping? Eating? C’mon – remember when you were in a car accident. I had to order you to not come in...  How long has it been since he last did something not centered around Vivien, kidnapping or his own health? Don’t you think that he needs a break, maybe some sense of normalcy, security even?”

“And working will give him that?”

“Maybe. The kid’s world has been turned upside down – and even if it’s for the better, he needs some time to adjust.”

“He wants to come back here…”

“Peter, he’s been the best consultant we’ve ever had.”

“I know. But…but there are so many things he can do.”

“Agree. Just let him choose. Give him time. And before he does, use the pointers he gave you.”

“Maybe… It feels so wrong – like I’ve been still using him as a tool.”

“You’ve never done that before – sometimes you were hard on him but you tried to make sure that he was treated fairly.  At least by people in the White Collar Division. Since we found him after the kidnapping and discovered the truth about his past, everyone’s been tiptoeing around him. Hovering like he is about to break. I think we all should back off a bit – the kid survived a hellish childhood, Keller and super-max. He’s a strong young man. We have to support him, not to make him feel like a broken doll! Give him space and control over his life, let him be himself again. ”

“So we’ve been trying to protect him and we’ve been unintentionally hurting him. Should I be happy about his charming a probie who started here last week into sending him some data?” Hughes just smiled.

“No, you should be Peter Burke.”

The younger agent smiled.

“What do we do about Ann and Michael?”

“It’s different with them – they’re parents. Being worried is in the job description. And they handle Neal pretty well – I think he likes the attention and love from them. We are his colleagues, friends even. There’s a narrow boundary between just right and too much pampering – somewhere between telling him to cowboy up and killing him with kindness and worry. We have to find it. Neal needs to know that he can rely on us, come back to us if he wants – but first and foremost we have to see Neal not as a victim, not as an abused child, but as a survivor.”

 Peter nodded. It was easier said than done but Hughes was right – Neal hated pity.

“Reese, I don’t know if he should be back. He could go to college.” Hughes’ face expression suggested that it might not be the best idea.

“Don’t you agree?”

“Do you know that Caffrey took and failed the GED? The first time he nearly got it.The second time he paid for the exam but he didn’t show up – he was working undercover at the time.”

“I didn’t know that…but he is smart and he should be able to pass it.”

“Do you really remember all that boring information from history, science or literature?”

“Probably not.”

“Look, Neal left school early and in his all life – maybe excepting the time in Ellen’s art classes – learning wasn’t the best experience. He’s smart and a fast learner but with a bag of bad memories. God knows how he managed to save enough money for the fees.”

“Federal Bureau of Idiots we should call ourselves. I didn’t even know that he tried since he was working for us. I didn’t know that I sent a kid to prison. Where did we go wrong?” Hughes wasn’t ready to discuss mistakes – he still was trying to forgive himself and just couldn’t lie to Peter that they didn’t make any.

“Peter, what I’m trying to tell you is that Neal’s dreams in the past almost became true. Almost being the key word here. With Kate, with the GED. I bet that he is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. He doesn’t want to think about college because every time in the past he allowed himself to hope, he ended up being terribly hurt. Again and again.”

“Ok. So what I’m supposed to do?”

“Neal wants to feel useful.”

“Ok. I’ll consider but I don’t let him throw away his future so we can solve more cases.”

“I don’t ask you to do.” Sensing that his whole conversation was just a preamble to something more, Peter asked.

“I bet you didn’t ask me to come in here to discuss how to handle Neal, did you?”

“No. But it’s related to him. And it could give you a new reason to worry.” Hughes gave Peter the letter.

“Old fox Phil Kramer playing dirty. Nothing new. One of the reasons he and I couldn’t work together. Reese, we all know that LEOs don’t always play by the book so what’s so different here – he lied and manipulated Kate and I get it – it’s tragic, heartbreaking, immoral. But Kramer didn’t know about the consequences. Couldn’t foresee them. Nothing was written, no evidence besides the letter.”

“Not exactly.” Hughes gave Peter other documents – including the deal. In writing.

“What do you want to do?”

 “I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Look, Kramer is a top star – his boss would probably will laugh at us.”

“At us – maybe. At Bancroft, Judge Brooks – probably not so much. Add to that a journalist who sniffs out a good story but is willing to let it go if justice is served…” Peter munched on what his boss said.

“Ok. Let’s call Neal’s dad.”

Michael Brooks knew the right people. Diana knew the right journalist. Bancroft knew how to talk to DC. Within less than three hours, Kramer was forced into early retirement with almost full benefits. He lost – donated ―10% of his pension to charity. Nothing more could be done unless they wanted to go to court and wash their dirty linen in the media spotlight. Nobody wanted that, and nobody suspected that although Kramer might have agreed to the deal, he wasn’t done yet.

Judge Brooks was explaining the settlement reached to Peter on the phone. “Join us for dinner and we’ll tell Neal.”

“Do you think that’s necessary? Learning that the FBI betrayed Kate just before her death…” Peter’s anxiety was palpable.

“I know that it won’t be easy for him but we made a promise to tell him about anything that concerns his life. Knowing him he would find out sooner or later and the fragile trust we’ve been building between us would be destroyed.”Michael explained.

 “I’m going to pick him up from physical therapy now.  Let’s plan on telling him after dinner, OK?”

Later, Peter went to the Brookses’ house and found Neal on the terrace outside enjoying the warm evening.

“Oh, hi Peter. How was your day? Did you catch any bad guys?”

“Hi. To stop you from harassing poor probies – some files. I can use your knowledge and experience. It’s not time sensitive and if I find out that you’ve been overtaxing yourself, I won’t bring anything more.”

Neal’s grin was wider than the Cheshire cat’s.

“Dinner’s ready! Peter, I don’t want to hear any excuses!”Of course, Ann knew that they needed to eat then talk to Neal – what he didn’t know before dinner couldn’t hurt his appetite.

After dinner, with mugs of tea, the family plus Peter sat down in the living room.

“Neal, we have to tell you something.” Michael started.

“Is everyone ok?”

“Yes, everyone is safe and sound… Neal it’s not easy way to tell you but before Kate was killed in the car accident she had gone to the FBI Field Office in DC. Agent Kramer offered her a deal with a new start for you and her. He never meant to honor it – and when she fulfilled her end of the bargain, he didn’t. I’m sorry… we found out this morning because of a letter written by a person who was Kramer’s partner at the time and died sometime ago.” Peter explained. It took Neal some time before he spoke up.

“When Keller tried to kill me in the hospital, he told me that Kate wanted to go to the FBI. I knew that something was up – she sounded so excited on the phone and then she was so different when she came back from DC to New York. I just didn’t know…I suspected that she planned something but then when I suggested asking the FBI for help in a more open way, she laughed at me and told me that nobody would care about people like us. And then I was all alone again…”

“Neal, I’m sorry I didn’t help you when I had caught you. I should have…I know it’s small comfort but Kramer didn’t completely get away with it – he was forced into early retirement and lost some of his benefits. It’s not a lot but it was everything we could have done.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care what happened to Kramer. Past is past…I think I’ll lie down. It’s been a long day. Sorry.”

“C’mon, sport. I’ll help you.” Neal’s dad stood up but the kid waved him off.

“I’ll manage. Thanks. Night.” Peter and the Brookses exchanged concerned glances but wished the kid good night. Soon after that the agent excused himself and left the worried parents to their own devices.

When Neal left, the dog who had assigned himself as his guard followed him into the bedroom. The kid knew that he needed sometime alone. He was on the verge of tears and he didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. He lay down not even bothering to cover himself and sobbed silently into his pillow.

Sometime later gentle steps were heard and Ann knocked softly and then entered her son’s bedroom dimly lit by a night lamp.

“Neal, sweetie, do you need anything?” She asked quietly in case her son was indeed asleep. When he didn’t answer, Ann came closer and tucked a blanket around him. Realizing that he was awake and sobbing, her motherly instincts kicked in and she pulled him into her lap, rocking him gently.

“Let it out, let it out,” she murmured.  After a while, Neal spoke between hiccups.

“I hate it! I hate being so emotional, so weak – I managed to survive on my own and I wasn’t like that even when ... you know… And now – and now I’m a leaking faucet!” He tried his best to sound strong but his voice broke.

“Sweetie, you don’t have to do it on your own any more. Everyone – including you― needs support. It’s ok to cry.”

“Yeah, because a softie slash convict slash drop-out is something you wanted for a son!”

Ann surprised Neal when she started to laugh.

“You just won’t quit with the self-hatred, will you?” She didn’t expect an answer from him.

“ I dreamt of finding my son. Period.”

She took a deep breath and continued, “I cried too.  So did Michael. But even during the darkest days we were there for each other. That’s why we managed to survive, to live day-by-day, step by step. We also learned to talk about our feelings and to let them go. No shame. So it’s ok to feel.”

This time Neal laughed.

“Peter said that too…”

“Great minds think alike.” After some time, she continued.

 “I know that it’s hard for you to believe that I’m happy and I accept you as you are. Gosh, I even think that all in all we are extremely lucky! It’s like a chain reaction – we wouldn’t have found each other if it weren’t for your past – working with Keller led to prison, prison led to deal, deal to the undercover, undercover to the surgery… Of course, I’d do anything to take back time and prevent all of the pain, humiliation, and despair happening to you. But I still remember days when a little John Doe was found matching somehow your description or age or anything. Sometimes your dad went to make the ID – a few minutes of uncertainty, of a possible loss of hope, sometimes dental records and fingerprints were enough – a few hours of waiting. Sometimes they needed DNA – at least two days. You could have been one of those boys. I can’t describe or draw or paint the happiness your return brought. Neal, do you really think Michael or I care about your past?  It hurts me that your childhood wasn’t as it was supposed to be but we saw the alternatives and they weren’t so good either…” This time Ann’s voice broke down.

“We’re lucky to get you back alive, sweetie. You don’t need to be alone anymore…” They sat for a while in silence until Neal said.

“I guess it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks.”

“You’re not even 21. I think we’ll manage.”

“Thanks.”

“C’mon, let’s get you under the covers. I’m here if you’d like to talk…”

“I know but I’m not ready…”

“Ok.” Then Ann started talking about some gardening plans and Neal was lulled to sleep by her soft voice.

When the morning came, the family was as rested as possible. Michael drove Neal to his physical therapy. Ann went to work. The day passed without much fuss until later in the afternoon when it was time to walk the dog.

“Hi, Michael and Neal. Ready for a walk?” Jodie greeted them on the street just outside the house.

“Yes. Damn it…can you guys wait a minute…I just got a phone call from my assistant – and I need to go back. I should be back in 5.”

“Don’t worry.”Neal answered smiling.

“Don’t go anywhere. Promise.” Michael half-joked jogging towards the house.

Jodie and Neal managed to find some common ground and talked until a cab stopped across the street and a very angry-looking man came forward. The taxi driver took off quickly apparently not wanting to become a witness in some kind of argument about to happen.

“You little shit! You good-for-nothing! I lost my job because of you. Early retirement! Ten percent of my hard-earned money to charity! Why? Because you didn’t take care of your girlfriend and she came to me! So naïve –believed in happily-ever-after! Happy endings are not for people like you! For stupid criminals! I don’t know how come you can work with the FBI – a convict who couldn’t even pass the GED! Your little dirty secret, isn’t it? Failures –the best description of your life… A failure!”

Each utterance brought Kramer a step closer to Neal, who had moved to stand between Kramer and Jodie trying to shield her from whatever disaster was about to happen. Her small dog was barking loudly – his dog doing nothing. At least initially.

The dog was patient. He didn’t even bark at the beginning – he had seen plenty of angry people in his life. He knew the signs well enough – so when the anger progressed into fury he growled, when the fury was about to become actual violence, the dog knew that snarls wouldn’t stop anyone. So as Kramer raised a hand to hit Neal, the dog lunged at his arm and bit him.

“No, dog, stop. C’mon here.” Neal grabbed the leash and dragged the dog away from the agent who was surprised more than anything. Adrenalin and the booze in his system helped him with not feeling pain. He stumbled and ended up sitting on the curb.

“I’ll kill that fucking dog!” Before more threats could be made, the police, probably alerted by the taxi driver, arrived and radioed for EMTs. They asked Kramer about the incident – but he was too drunk and too angry to say anything more than repeating over and over that _the little shit standing over there should have rotted in jail_ and that this _criminal had destroyed his life and was about to pay for it_ and that _the dog should be put down_ and that _he was a respected FBI agent._

The cops split – one of them stayed with Kramer and medics checking him over, another – a man in his forties, apparently not new in the business, came toward Neal who stood with Jodie few feet away.

“Officer Parker here. I’d like you to explain what happened. Can you tell me your name? Do you have any ID?”

And suddenly Neal couldn’t breathe. Name – what was his name? ID – he didn’t know where to find one. Bars, cells, concrete floor and no hope. The noises were becoming distant, the edges of the world faded and the air seemed to have evaporated.

“Hey, could you come over here?” The cop waved rather frantically to one of the EMTs working on Kramer. His voice was calm and soft but his demeanor showed no time to be wasted.  One of the guys rushed over.

“What’s going on…” The medic didn’t finish the sentence.

“Kid, my name’s John and you’re having a panic attack. Everything’s going to be ok. Just keep breathing. You’re safe. Breathe.” Together with the cop they managed to lower Neal to the curb. Jodie tried her best to calm him to no avail. The medic asked Jodie about Neal’s medical history, allergies and medication he took.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know. He was kidnapped as a young child and his parents found him just a couple of days ago. He was injured  – he is still recovering. His dad should be here soon. Here he is…Michael!” Michael came back from the house –it had taken him longer than he thought to solve the crisis his assistant had called about. His heart almost stopped as he took in the chaotic scene before him. It took him a minute to locate Neal sitting down and surrounded by Jodie, medics and cops. He rushed over and quickly recognized Neal’s condition.

“Neal, son, breathe.” Michael sat beside Neal and kept a steady hand on his back.

Apparently a soothing voice, familiar scent and gentle touch helped, and Neal became more and more aware of his surroundings.

“Back with us?” The medic asked, putting away a prepared syringe with an anti-anxiety drug ready in case just words couldn’t reach Neal.

“Yeah…I…” The kid tried to apologize.

“It’s ok.” The medic checked Neal’s blood pressure, oxygen level and pupil reaction and then asked  “Can I have a look at your hand? It seems to be injured.”

Neal looked somewhat vacantly at his hand, still holding the leash, slightly abraded from his pulling the dog away from Kramer rather forcibly. “No. I’m not letting my dog be taken away.”

“Neal, let him have a look at your hand.”

“No! You don’t understand! It’s not his fault! He tried to protect me! You can’t put him down!”

Michael wasn’t sure what the kid was talking about but he would find out once Neal’s hand was looked at, the kid led back home and possibly bubble-wrapped. Then the judge looked around and spotted Kramer. The ex-agent, patched up and deemed mostly unharmed, was sitting, still throwing slurs and curses. And suddenly the judge was sure that he knew what had happened. The cop, who apparently had a better picture after talking to Jodie, tried to diffuse the kid’s fear.

“Whoa, kiddo, nobody will do anything to your dog. I’d give him a medal for protecting you but I’m just a cop. Anyway, you might want to get him checked over – God knows what kind of diseases that jerk there carries with him.”A small smile appeared on Neal’s face but he didn’t let go of the leash.

“Neal, I’ll be quick – it’s just a scratch and then you can have the leash back. Let’s just hold it with your legs.” The medic tried.

“The dog is safe.” The judge provided.

“I’m fine.” Neal whispered but maneuvered the leash between his knees. The medic quickly cleaned the scratch, put some ointment on it and promised to be back in a few minutes to check on Neal once again.

“You’ll be fine when your mom finds out about it.”

“Do we have to tell her?”

“Yes, you do. Because moms find out one way or another.” Ann told them.

“I know, my meeting ended more quickly than I thought. Dare to share what happened here?”

“I’m fine. Really.” Neal tried once again.

“Uhmmm…”

In the meantime, Kramer spotted her and the judge. So he started once again.

“You must be the mother of that pathetic creature over there! And the dad! And a dog! What a happy family! A criminal for a son! Did you lock up all your silverware? And jewels? What are you going to do? With a pup without even high school! Who failed the GED! If I were you, I’d pack and move someplace where he couldn’t find you! Do you think he can love you? No… he just wants your money!” Kramer stopped to take a breath.

“You both stay here. Call Peter. ” Ann said, stood up and took matters into her own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poll is open... Ann and Kramer - what should happen?  
> Dial 1 if you want to see Neal's mom in action...  
> :D
> 
> And the expression 'leaking faucet' was used by Arsenic in the Dickense-verse. I loved it and borrowed it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ann, Kramer (and a very sorry author:))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know...7 months...I hope some of you are still with me here!
> 
> My lovely AYAM helped a lot! Thank you!
> 
> All mistakes are mine and sorry for them...

_**June, 29th** _

The next morning Hughes drove to the Brookses’ house. Before he knocked at the door he heard a full belly laugh from the inside that certainly belonged to Neal.

The agent smiled – maybe the kid had his happy ending.

*****

_**The end of May** _

Neal dialed Peter’s cell phone. The agent picked up after the first ring.

“Burke.” Came the grumpy reply. Apparently the agent was elbow-deep in his work and he didn’t pay attention to the caller.

“Hi, well…are you busy?” Neal tried in his most innocent voice. But Peter immediately knew that it meant nothing but trouble. Most times, anyway.

“What’s going on?” The agent stopped what he was doing – the kid swore that he heard the cessation of paper shifting. Neal knew how to con people but Peter was one of the few immune to Neal’s charm and besides – he wasn’t at the top of his game.

“Well… I’m fine, really. But could you come over…you know the address, don’t you?” Neal already knew that Peter was standing and readying himself to leave the office.

“Is everything all right?” The agent tentatively asked already knowing that if Neal had called him something was off. Peter had learned that hearing the word ‘fine’ from the kid could mean almost everything  – he just hoped that Neal wasn’t hurt any worse.

“I’m fine, I swear. But Kramer paid us a visit.” Some curses left the agent’s mouth before he could stop himself.

“Damn it. Neal, sit tight. I’m on my way. I’ll call the NYPD.”

“Don’t have to, cops are here. EMTs even.” Neal blurted out before he could manage to stop the words from escaping his mouth. The simple statement almost gave Peter a coronary.

“Why do you need EMTs!? What did the bastard do?”

“I’m fine. Scout’s honor.” The kid tried again.

“Neal…”

“A lot of shouting but he was bitten by the dog.”

“I don’t give a damn about Kramer. I’m asking if you are all right.”

“I’m fine. Told you.” Peter was sure that in his and Neal’s dictionaries ‘fine’ had completely different meanings.

The agent decided to look for someone with a more accurate view of events.  “Uhmmm….Is your dad around?”

“Yes.”

“Let me talk to him.”  The kid reluctantly handed the phone to his father, eyeing the scene before him. His mom appeared to be heading for Kramer.

“Peter, we’re all right, just shaken. Neal is fine. No, he didn’t lie about it. I’m taking care of it. Drive safe.”

In the meantime Ann had been talking to Jodie for a moment and then went to find Kramer.

“Shall we be worried?” Neal asked, not sure what to expect. Michael snorted at his son’s question.

“About her? No. The impulsivity that saved June’s granddaughter and put you in harm’s way back in the day – that’s my department, not hers. Planning, foreseeing future obstacles – that’s her forte.”

“You don’t seem to be impulse-driven.” Neal commented, surprised.

“Ask your mom. I hope she has forgotten half of the times when I acted before thinking. Otherwise you’ll be busy hearing it till Christmas. I guess it’s getting better  - fewer reckless stunts – now that  I’m getting older.”

“I don’t believe it. You wouldn’t be able to be a judge  if you were quick tempered or acted impulsively.” The kid remembered that his dad wasn’t very calm during his trial but everything he had done was legitimate and people tended to see him more as someone passionate about his job rather than reckless.

“You should see me during my DA days. Or outside the courtroom. I’d punch Kramer or start something that could cause a lot of trouble. As much as I want too, I can’t. Ann will do it by the book.”

“What do you mean? She doesn’t seem to be able to beat Kramer.”

“Physically – no, well at least not in the open fight. Verbally? Sit and watch.”

“You don’t want to intervene?”

“Oh, no no. I learnt my lesson – couch for a month when I tried to help her. And I think I’ll be kicked out of the bedroom tonight for leaving you alone.”

“Ouch. She wouldn’t…” Neal tried to reassure but he was shushed when the spectacle began.  

Ann strode to where Kramer was sitting, her posture full of confidence but not anger. Angry women were pathetic in their hysterical actions and prone to make mistakes. Ann had learnt to keep her emotions in check. She wasn’t about to cause a scene – not in the way everyone was anticipating she would. If she wanted to harm somebody, she wouldn’t do that in front of witnesses. Besides, that could be taken care of later. As someone wrote, a calm woman sitting and thinking and smiling at you is the most dangerous animal species known in the world.

“Mister Kramer, I’m Ann Brooks, I believe we weren’t introduced properly. ” The cops backed off a bit – they were prepared for her yelling but not being polite.  Kramer barely lifted his head and wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

“I’d like to apologize for my dog’s behavior – I don’t know what has gotten into him. Usually he doesn’t bite. But you should consider yourself lucky – he could as well have bitten off that arm. Anyway, the dog is very protective of Neal. As we all are.”

“How sweet. The little pathetic Neal.”

Ann smiled.  “He’s neither pathetic, nor little anymore. I just came to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“You’re already apologized. It won’t stop me from putting your dog down. I bet animal control won’t be too happy with him. And no more sweet fake family! What a tragedy! Besides, watch your silverware!”

“Let us worry about the dog and the silverware. It must be hard for you, though.” Ann swore that she heard the machinery in Kramer’s head starting to work in deciphering her message.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you might have shouted all you wanted, thrown every curse you could think of at Neal, but at the end of the day we will eat dinner together, watch a movie together, get ready for the night together. And you? You’ll go back to an empty apartment, alone with Johnnie Walker as your best friend. And tomorrow? We’ll be together again. Enjoying each other and our time together. And you? Maybe some Jameson this time.” Kramer was becoming redder and redder as he was becoming more and more furious.

“I’d be solving cases if it hadn’t been for your good-for-nothing son and his little whore! After all these years somebody had to open her big mouth… Somebody had a few tears to shed for their “tragic” story…And you…” Kramer’s use of language wasn’t very selective and Ann was called few names not normally used in her world.

“Oh, here we go again. Anything left in your classy repertoire? Mr. Kramer, I’m sorry that your life is so empty and lonely. I’m sorry that you have lived such a bad life that you are reduced to taking pleasure and satisfaction in harassing other people.”

Kramer tried to say something but Ann interrupted him.

“You…” He started.

“What? Any other name you want to use? Any other curse you want to throw? Go ahead and be my guest. But be quick – I have a dinner to prepare. We have a small celebration tonight. My son and I have had our first drawing published together. I have waited so long and now it’s here.”  She took a book from her bag.

“You see here where it says Ann Brooks and son?” That angered Kramer even further.

“You stupid …Happy endings are not for people like Neal!”

“No, Mr Kramer happy endings are not for people like you.” Kramer tried to stand and say something but Ann was done.

“Enough. Officers, could you take care of this man? I believed he has had too much to drink.”   

“Will your son press charges, Ma’am?”

“No. The FBI will be here soon. Let them clean up their own mess.”

She came back to Neal and Michael.

“Remind me not to make you angry. Like ever.” Neal smiled.

“I don’t think it would be possible, sweetie. Do you need a doctor or are you cleared to go home?”

“No doctor, no hospital. I’m fine.” Both parents smiled.

“Sure. Let’s hear a professional opinion.” Ann found paramedics who were still on the scene.  

“Can I take my son home?”

“Yes. He’s as fine as someone can be after a panic attack.”

“Panic attack?”

“Oh, sorry. I thought you knew.”

“No… I guess it’s just too much of everything.” Ann sighed. She didn’t expect this.

“ Of course I don’t know his history, but he must have gone through some hard times.”

“That’s the understatement of the century!”

The paramedic smiled softly.

 “What I’m trying to say is that he is strong but even the strongest people have their breaking point. The panic attack happened because it – whatever it is – became too much. If you want him to heal, he needs to relax. I know – easier said than done. But stress could cause still cause trouble in his weakened state.”

“I know and I wish I were a better mom.”

“Don’t beat yourself up – I bet that whatever happened – it wasn’t your fault. And his dad calmed him quickly enough so we didn’t need anti-anxiety meds. Don’t give up. I’m sure you’re doing excellent work with him. And he needs both of you more than he will ever admit.”

Ann just nodded not trusting her voice. She came back to her boys still sitting at the curb.

“Let’s go home.” She ordered.

“No. We have to wait for Peter or he’ll with come back with a SWAT team to check on me.”

“And on us taking care of you.”

“That too. Help me up. I need to stretch my legs.”

Peter arrived a few minutes and some traffic violations later. Neal was standing with his parents hovering nearby. The family was ready to go home.

“Jesus, Neal, I’m so sorry.” The agent sprang to the trio as soon as he left the Taurus at the curb.

“Not your fault.” The kid smiled but his mom had draggers in her eyes. Maybe it wasn’t directly the agent’s fault but he represented the same agency as Kramer.

“We’re going home and I believe that the problem with Kramer isn’t our problem anymore.” Peter had never seen Ann speak in such a glacial manner. But he knew she was protecting Neal.

“Yeah, call me if you need anything.” Peter had spoken with his supervisors and they were pushing for the kid’s statement but it wasn’t a good time to bring this topic up.

Back at the Brookses’ home, Michael knew that his son was embarrassed and probably ashamed of the whole incident – or rather of  what Kramer had said about him. It wasn’t something that could be just swept under the rug.

So when Ann made them (including the dog) sit down in their living room, telling them that she would order dinner and then come back to deal with them because – as she insisted – all of them were in big trouble.

“ Let’s get this straight – Mike you’re staying on the couch for the foreseeable future because you left Neal alone outside the house.”

“Ann, he…”

“Not a word.”

“Neal…”

“Me?”

“You’re in trouble for not telling us that you have panic attacks.”

“I…”

“Not a word.”

“The dog. You’re in trouble for biting Kramer’s arm. We don’t need another drama right now…”

“…”

“Not a whimper.” Then she headed to the kitchen to grab some menus. The steaks planned for dinner weren’t an option – they could be frozen or used the next night. Ann wouldn’t be able to cook, that much she knew.

“I can offer half of my bed. If you don’t snore. Or move too much.”

“Thanks. I hope to be forgiven by bedtime.”

“Like in a year or so maybe.”

“Let’s hope it will happen sooner.” Michael looked at his son and saw a lot of sorrow.

“It must have been very hard for you. Would you like to talk about it?”

“What’s to talk about?”

“I know he said a lot of bad things about you.”

“Well, he didn’t lie in many of them. Sorry that the whole neighborhood heard that your son is a convict and an idiot without a high-school education who failed the GED! If I weren’t here, your reputation would be intact.”

Michael sighed.

“A few years back when alcohol and I were better friends I took out the garbage just before sunset. Naked. So much about reputation.” His statement was supposed to ease Neal’s fears but it didn’t work out very well.

“It’s a bit different –  a one night stand – not a whole life burden.” Ann came back and overheard conversation which she’d rather not hear.

“Stop right now. Do you know what I’d love to do? Put bubble wrap everywhere so you wouldn’t get injured. If I could, I would lock you in this house forever, if I could, I’d put a hit on each and every Kramer out there. I’d feed you over and over and I’d make sure you’re warm, safe and loved in your bubble wrap. But I don’t have the right to do it. There’s a whole world for you to explore.” She took a deep breath.

“I’m angry because we were supposed to be happy now, no more problems in paradise – and we couldn’t protect you. Again. How many failures as parents can we have…”

“It’s not your fault…it’s my past that caused it…my choices that led to being a drop-out without even a high school diploma…” Michael wanted to reassure his son again and again that he didn’t need a GED or anything but he suddenly understood something.

“We might not care but you do, don’t you buddy?

“It’s easier to get a job with a GED.”

“Neal, sweetie, you don’t need to find a job. If you want to prepare for the GED, college or anything you want – we’re here to support you. But one thing has to be clear – it has to be your decision. Not ours.”

He knew that they were right – but it didn’t make things easier. Since he was a little kid he made his own decisions – and paid a price for them. Sometimes he had wished he didn’t have to do it. Sometimes he had wished someone who loved him, who cared would take the responsibility or at least offer support when things went south.

“Sometimes I could use some bubble wrap…” He managed.

“I ordered some on-line. Plenty.” His mom told him smiling softly.

“The fact that we want you to make your own decisions, doesn’t mean we won’t talk about them, discuss different options and offer safe haven.”

“I know… but still… I’d have to testify about my past…” 

“Yes. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Together”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just can't write, can't play with your characters... Nothing major happen - just somehow I couldn't...  
> I can't promise you any kind of timeline... But I'll try my best to update sooner and to finish this story! In fact I have the ending ready till the beginning... The middle is the problem..
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the update


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